Prelude
by SilverLight0
Summary: "Because with all the holes you've tried to fix up, you've only made them larger." Clara's on the run, and so is Bucky. Together, life doesn't seem as terrible. That is, of course, until everything comes crashing down around them in one magnificent blow that changes their lives permanently. (Takes place before, during, and after Captain America: Civil War).
1. Chapter 1

_Now, Bucharest, Romania:_

 _A burnt photograph laid on the wooden floor that was covered in ashes and dust from what appeared to be an attack of some sort. The subject of the photograph was difficult to discern as the edges were frayed and singed. The only part of the photograph that remained untouched by the flames was a smiling couple; an odd contrast from the eerie scene in which the photo was found. If someone were to come by the apartment, they'd be struck by how tragic the scene seemed what with the subjects appearing so happy, yet their home was burnt to the ground._

 _Who knew a burnt photo could give so much information?_

* * *

 _Then, four months ago, Bucharest, Romania:_

Bucky had a difficult evening. Not that having a difficult day was anything new to him, but this one had been particularly hard. Memories had been coming back to him steadily; some good and some not. And when the bad memories came back, it was never a good day. Sometimes the most innocuous object or person would send another fragment of some past incident ramming straight to the forefront of his mind begging to be acknowledged. Once Bucky actually began to process what he remembered, that was when the mental torture began. He blamed himself for not snapping out of Hydra's control, for not realizing that what he was doing was wrong. _Extremely wrong_.

The memory that cropped up that day at the sight of a wine bottle happened to be an assassination of some important political leader named Sarah who had been enjoying a good time out with her friends, before receiving a bullet straight through her head. Suddenly their dinner wasn't a joyous occasion anymore. Their food was covered in blood and they screamed and they cried. In short, it wasn't something Bucky wanted to remember on his way back to his cramped apartment.

Being on the run was already about the most challenging thing life had tossed his way, bad memories were just an added problem because being on the run entailed things like: never using or responding to your real name, not being able to use legal documents, not having any close friends and lying multiple times on a daily basis. Not fun stuff. Then again, when had life been fun for Bucky ever since he shipped out for the war?

Suddenly, Bucky was hit with a pang of sadness at the children laughing and playing in the puddles on the other side of the street. Childhood was blissful ignorance; something he could only dream of having.

Walking up to the front door to his apartment complex, Bucky was thankful for how mild the Romanian winter was. It was a welcome change from Russia's winters. In his memories, it had never been nice to trudge through the snow or feel the razor-sharp winds cut into his skin. No, he decided, the temperate winter in Romania was much, much better.

"Excuse me, mister, I forgot my key. Can you keep the door open for me?"

Bucky snapped out of his thoughts to turn around and see a child expectantly looking at him. It was one of the kids who'd been playing in the rain.

"Of course," Bucky faintly smiled. So maybe the kids had been playing in the rain to pass the time.

Opening the door, he stood back to let the child go inside first. Poor kid was soaked to the bone. "You might want to dry up as soon as you get inside or you'll catch a cold," he added on.

"I will, and thank you!" The kid said, then hurriedly ran up the stairs.

 _Anything to keep the memories out, even for a moment_ , Bucky replied bitingly in his mind.

"That was nice of you," a woman commented, stepping fully out of the doorway that lead to the laundry room.

"It was nothing," Bucky tried to play it off. He was supposed to be keeping a low profile, not getting noticed for little acts of kindness. But he didn't want to live life that way. He wanted it to be like before, like when he could be as loud as he wanted and most importantly, himself. Even if he didn't know what being 'himself' meant currently. It was a strange mix between the man he'd read about at the museum, himself, and the deadly assassin dubbed The Winter Soldier.

And currently, The Winter Soldier demanded to go unnoticed.

"Hey, I haven't seen you around the building. I'm Clara," the woman greeted. Deciding it was better to keep talking with her, Bucky took a good look at her. He needed to know about everyone who knew about him lest something was to happen.

She was tall, probably in her mid-twenties, brown hair and seemed to have come back from a gym class of some sort. Maybe boxing? There were wraps on her hands, so it seemed likely.

"James," he offered, before turning to go up the tall stairway that was nothing but red rails and walls that desperately needed to be re-done.

James was acceptable. Bucky, on the other hand, was not. James was a much more commonplace name, while Bucky was a nickname that had been given to him by his closest friend. In fact, that was a good memory that had come back to him one day; the day Steve had given him a nickname. Bucky liked it when memories of his old life came back, those were moments that affirmed his resolve to keep going in life. They gave him purpose and a sense of belonging rather than making him feel like an amnesiac murderer with no soul.

Finally, opening his apartment door, he immediately dropped his backpack on the floor and shut the door. No matter what memory came back, he'd told himself that he'd write it in the notebook he kept in his house. So this time, he wouldn't be writing a happy memory in it. Instead, he'd be writing about an innocent woman named Sarah who was murdered having dinner with her friends. And what for? Bucky didn't actually know. All he knew was that HYDRA willed it, and he did it.

So he began to painfully etch the story of how Sarah had died at his handsーfor no reasonー into his journal. Blessedly, the book contained a majority of memories before he was the Winter Soldier. More often than not, it was the memories of Bucky that filled his mind. And when they did, he'd write them down eagerly for if he was to ever forget, at least he'd have his journal.

When he finished writing about Sarah's tragic end, he flipped to one of his favourite pages of the journalーthe one where he'd remembered the night before he shipped out to Europe. It was a small entry, but it always made him smile. It was about Steve taking him to a bar so they could celebrate one last time, because if Bucky never came back at least they'd have that memory. It was ironic, Bucky thought without humour, because he never did come back from the war.

Eventually, Bucky shut the journal and went to put it on top of his fridge where it always laid in case of a quick escape.

Turning around, Bucky jumped when he heard a sharp succession of three knocks on the door. He never received guests at his door, ever. Nobody came to deliver mail in an apartment building either, so just who the hell could it be? A potential threat? Someone who figured out who he was? If so, they'd be a complete idiot if they came by themselves.

Bucky cautiously walked to the door, cringing every time the old floorboards creaked a bit too loud. Maybe stealth wasn't the best option.

"Who is it?" Bucky called through the door, not willing to open it for a potential threat.

"You left your key in the door downstairs, I just wanted to give it to you," the person on the other side replied.

Female, a bit of an accentーEuropean of some sort, but he couldn't place it. It sounded exactly like the woman from downstairs. What concerned Bucky was the fact that she knew which room was his. It wasn't like they had a list in the building stating who lived where, because if so he definitely wouldn't be living where he was.

"How'd you know which apartment was mine?" A bit of a risky question, but then again, half of the people living in the building were shady, so it wasn't exactly out of the norm to ask.

A hesitation from the other side. Hesitation normally brought good things, so Bucky braced himself only to hear:

"I live on the other side of the railings," the woman replied.

Okay, so maybe he was a bit paranoid. But who could blame him after all he'd suffered through?

Bucky opened the door a crack and was faced with the same woman from downstairs. How the hell had he not seen her around before? Sure, there was lots of inhabitants in the building, but she lived just on the other side of the stairway. So much for being observant.

The woman held out her handーstill covered in wrapsーwith his forgotten key. Just how the hell he'd left it in the door was beyond him. Maybe the memory of Sarah had been a bit overwhelming at the time.

"Thanks," was all he said when he took the key from her hand with his arm that wasn't metal.

Yeah, the metal arm was probably his largest problem while trying to hide. It gave him inhuman strength that he had to carefully keep under control. Then there was the matter of having to cover it up; when he'd first came to Romania it was summertime, therefore quite hot. Suffice to say, it was painful always having to wear long-sleeved shirts. And perhaps, worst of all, the arm made mechanical noises when it moved. That was the most difficult aspect to hideーthankfully he was rarely in quiet enough environments for others to hear it.

"Alright, well I'll see you around James," Thankfully, she left with that.

He never used the name Buckyーeven if he'd preferred itーbut it wasn't everyday one would encounter a person with the name Bucky. It was a given nickname and apparently, according to the museum, was used by everyone he knew. Hell, maybe people at the museum referred to him as Bucky too. So James would have to do.

* * *

Another day after the gym, another time to wallow in self-pity. Clara hated doing so, yet there she was sitting on the couch desperately wishing she could be anywhere that wasn't her crumbling apartment. Once upon a time, she had a lovely home to go to that was filled with all the technology and memories she loved. But that was nothing but a distant dream now.

She was faced with the reality of having no money for a TV, eating shitty meals almost everyday, and that damn drip that wouldn't stop coming from the tap. So yeah, life had been pretty shitty ever since she'd left her home in Hungary and her only escape had been going to the gym. She'd even became so good that the people at the gym had appointed her an instructor for boxing.

Boxing was a great escape from reality. That, and she'd already done her act of kindness for the day when she gave that man, James, his key back. He'd helped that kid out, which warmed her heart, so in return she gave him his key back.

He was a bit of an odd guy, but then again, so were half the people in the neighbourhood.

And she didn't want to even think about why she was misplaced from her home in the first place. That always made her depressedーshe couldn't even use her given name because of it. Sure, Clara was a nice name, but she missed being called her other one. Originally she'd hated it, but now she realized just how nice it was once she could no longer be called by it.

So she sat alone in her apartment despising herself for hating herself.

She needed another distraction, and quickly, or she'd forever be stuck in a self-fulfilling hole of pity and despair. Maybe a friend could fill that void. The people at the gym were nice enough, but Clara couldn't trust herself to get close enough to them. Maybe she needed someone who was just as shady as she was. In fact, maybe James wasn't so odd after all.

Because, in the end, she had to be just as weird. She spent all her time instructing people how to box at a gym when she had the capability to earn a high paying job.

But she was runningーand nothing could deter her from staying hidden. But that didn't mean her life had to be absolute hell while doing so.

So maybe she would go make a friend.

* * *

AN: I probably use hyphens too much, but oh well. Constructive critisism is always helpful too!


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky groaned and rolled off his mattress. He'd had a nightmareーan especially gruesome oneーand just couldn't fall back asleep. It felt like he was insulting the memory of the people he killed by trying to sleep the nightmares of their deaths off. So instead, Bucky thought that going on a morning stroll would be a good idea.

Except, it wasn't because it was five in the morning and almost nobody was around. There was nothing to distract himself. He was left with his own mind; something that never ceased to torture him in some way. Really, the only thing hat kept him going was when he thought about his old lifeーit wasn't an easy one. He and Steve weren't exactly rich, but they had fun and they had each otherーthat was all that mattered to them.

Maybe he'd start walking to his work a bit early. His job as a construction worker was a bit shady, as he purposely chose it so that he could avoid having to use any sort of identification, just like his rented apartment. Not leaving a track record was essential to hiding, otherwise, someone would eventually catch the slip-up and it'd all be over for him.

So Bucky drew his hood up and hid his backpack and journal. If someone were to ever find those he'd be caught for sureーthey were the most important possessions he owned.

It was the same routine as he'd been following for the past month or so. He would make his way down the huge flight of stairs with the red railings that needed a paint job. Then he'd quickly make his way out the door and walk to the work site. It wasn't an exciting life, but it was better than killing for HYDRA. If he had the chance, he'd go back to his old life. But Bucky didn't even know if he could do that because he certainly wasn't the same man that would flirt with the women passing by or have a good time with everyone.

He was just a weird scramble of everything who was wasting his life away in hiding.

Except this day, his routine didn't go the same.

"Hey James," a voice said.

Bucky snapped his head to the side, caught off guard by it; 'it' was that girl again. Didn't she have anything better to do? Why the hell was she even up at five? It was then he realized she was tying up running shoes and wearing athletic clothes.

"Hey," was all he said in reply. Maybe she'd take a hint.

"I never see anyone around this early. What're you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"I'm about to go on a jog, you should come with me," she suggested, then added; "running reduces stress too, it'll be good for you."

For a moment, he truly considered it. Running would definitely be a much better option than wallowing in guilt. Maybe he could find somebody to talk to, considering how lonely being in hiding could get. But then again, if he made one slip up all cover would be blown. There could be too many risksーthe side of him that was an assassin clearly said no, but the other side, Bucky Barnes, craved attention and to be around other people.

Because with all the shit HYDRA had done to him, they could try to replace him with the Winter Soldier, but it would never work. They could never take away who he was in the end, even if it cost themーand himーeverything.

"Okay," he answered, his old self, winning out over The Winter Soldier. As long as he didn't say too much and his arm was covered, he'd be fine. Nobody would know if, for once, he stopped hiding for even a moment and allowed himself this break in monotony.

"Great!" She exclaimed, then examined him. "Aren't you going to need a water bottle or something first?"

Bucky shook his head. He'd managed with much less while out on missions, a jog was nothingーespecially since he was in shape. But then again, Clara didn't know that.

"Okay," she said slowly, then held the door open for him.

She was probably regretting asking him at that point, but it was probably worth it so that she'd get off his back after the jog.

"So I was thinking that we should jog to the park and back, do you have enough time for that? I have to be at the gym by seven-thirty."

"I have somewhere to be at seven," he told her. Okay, 'somewhere' sounded a bit too vague and shady. Word choice was definitely something he'd have to work on in the future if he wanted to keep hidden.

"Alright, to the park it is."

Stepping outside, Bucky realized just calm it was outside. Sure, there was no sun shining down on everyone quite yet, but there was little people outside and the wind barely moved a branch on the trees. It painted a peaceful sceneーwaking up early would probably be a good idea from then on.

"So do you ever go to the gym? A guy like you had to go sometimes, but I've never seen you there. And I know there aren't many gyms in this area. Hell, our gym is almost falling apart."

Well, she had no qualms about being blunt.

"No, I don't," he answered, making sure his shoes were tied.

"You should come to the gym sometime, maybe try boxing with me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't box."

"Why?"

"Because I don't." _Because if he did, people would know._

"Okay, well let's get going then," she said.

Could his bluntness not deter this girl? It wasn't that he didn't want to go with her, it was that he actually couldn't. If he used his metal arm in that situation, someone could find out or be seriously injured trying to fight him. So sadly, he couldn't say yesーno matter how much he desired a normal life, he would never be able to have one.

So they started jogging to the park. Not many words were exchanged between the two of them, making Bucky feel as though he'd been a bit too harsh in rejecting her. But he needed to get the message across. Besides, he'd be nothing but trouble for her.

"Sorry I can't go to the gym with you," he finally said as they took a tiny break.

"It's okay, I understand people have other commitments. I'm surprised you even agreed to come jogging with me, honestly."

"It's better than wondering around," Bucky shrugged.

"Is that what you do when you can't sleep? Do you have insomnia? I'm a little stressed out myself and get insomnia all the time."

"I get insomnia sometimes," he replied cryptically. He knew better than to give out too much information. _Just in case_.

"You know, boxing is a great cure for that," she tried again.

"Not going to happen."

"Okay, well how about jogging every morning?" Bucky took his eyes off the house across the street to meet her eyes. From what he could see from beneath her bangs, they were filled with the hope that he might say yes. Why in the hell did she want him to go out places with her? He'd barely said anything and had been civil at best.

Clara was definitely an odd person, and that just made him more suspicious.

"Why?"

"To help with insomnia...? Besides, my morning jogs get pretty lonely. I was thinking about getting a dog to come with me, but I don't think that the landlord would really appreciate that."

For what felt like the first time in forever, Bucky smiled a bit. _The landlord would definitely_ would not approve of that. He was a short stalky man who was very adamant that people follow his rules and paid the rent. Even if he didn't seem to care what condition the building was in.

"No, he really wouldn't appreciate it," he replied, the faint smile still present.

"Exactly so a person is the next best thing."

Okay, so maybe she wasn't that suspicious.

* * *

After the conversation about the jogging partner, they didn't say much. They just continued on their way to the destination because it was pretty difficult to chat and jog at the same time. One tended to run out of breath very quickly if they did that.

So instead, Clara turned her thoughts to James. Like she had previously thought, he was an odd person, but she was beginning to like him. He didn't say much or even try to be nice to her, which is exactly why she liked him. He didn't put up a fake front of politeness or make excuses about not going to the gym. He blatantly said no; a clearer cut way of letting her know he wasn't interested rather than ' _oh sorry, I have somewhere to be. Blah, blah, blah.'_

And, unlike some men, he wasn't immediately weirded out that she boxed. In fact, he seemed to accept very quickly. She definitely liked that about him.

Now she was one step closer to making a friend. Step two? Get him to talk to her further. She knew very little about him, and likewise, he didn't have very much on her. Maybe going out for lunch would work.

Clara got excited once they arrived at the park because that meant she'd be able to ask James if he wanted to go have lunch with her sometime.

She observed the trees that were without leaves briefly before turning to James. "Hey, would you like to come with me for lunch sometime?" She asked hopefully.

James met her eyes momentarily before averting his gaze. He was pretty jumpy sometimes, but she could be too.

"To where?"

"I don't know, I was thinking one of the places around our apartments?"

James really seemed to think about her request, before shaking his head.

Step two: failure?

Clara didn't care what people thought of her anymoreーnot since she fled from her home. So, without hesitation, she asked; "why not?" That wasn't the sort of question you'd typically ask somebody you just met but she was quite curious about James.

"I don't typically have time for lunch."

That wasn't the type of response she was expecting, and it didn't exactly sound like an excuseーand if so, nobody had used that as an excuse to her before.

"Okay, that's alright," she said, adjusting her shoelaces that didn't actually need to be re-adjusted. Just because she didn't care what people though didn't mean rejection didn't sting any less.

"Let's just get going back then."

And so they made their way back to the apartments.

* * *

 _Two days later, Bucharest:_

Clara was a bit pissed off at James currently. He said that he'd go jogging with her, yet he was a no show for the past two days. Maybe she'd scared him off because she was too pushy? That would really suck if she did because she thought that she was finally making progress with him when he'd smiled at the suggestion of a dog.

Or maybe he just really liked the thought of dogs. Okay, that sounded pretty silly when Clara thought of it, but still. Why didn't he show up?

She thought about knocking on his door, but that would be going way past the boundary. Yes, she didn't care what people thought, but that would be going overboard.

God did she ever just want to be home and not jogging by herself in the cool winter weather.

* * *

James had been purposely avoiding Clara for one sole reason: he'd almost accepted her invitation for lunch before the calculating side of him stepped in and firmly said no. He had one goal: survive and hide. But the more he thought about it, the less it made sense. What was the use of living if you couldn't enjoy yourself for even a moment? He wouldn't be found out if he let himself have some sort of life, right?

Pacing around his apartment in the early hours after waking from a nightmare certainly didn't help his decision-making process, but he didn't care. It was probably too late to catch Clara down in the lobby to go jogging, but he could wait for her to come back.

Bucky tossed on a black sweatshirt, gloves, a cap, and jacket so that his metal arm would be hidden, then left his apartment. Walking down millions of flights of stairs was always an annoyance, but at least it left people in shape. The irritating part would be the amount of time it took to actually make it to the bottom.

The main floor was devoid of peopleーusual for the time of dayーaside from weird people like Clara and himself, supposedly.

Outside, from what Bucky could see from the windows, was a rather calm day. The branches on the trees weren't moving and the sun was only beginning to rise, giving a warm glow to the scenery outside. In other words, it would have been a great day to go jogging. Instead, he'd spent the morning pacingーtrying to forget the subject of his nightmares.

And then the sight of people dying by his hands came up again and then regret slammed into him at full force. He really should have gone with Clara because the staying hidden stuff was bullshit. He had to try and build some sort of life there in Romania or he'd go mental with the enormity of guilt and regret he felt. Without some sort of distraction, he'd be an empty husk of a human; devoid of all motivation and emotion as it would be so centred on remorse.

He needed to be somewhere that wasn't inside, _immediately_.

Bucky looked for anything that could fend off the unwanted memories. Even the birds flying around the street would do. Maybe he could think up apologies to tell Clara. As long as he wasn't focused on the murders.

Half an hour had passed, he'd only looked at his watch once to make sure he wouldn't be late for anything. And in the passage of time, it felt like an eternity had passed as he desperately clung to miscellaneous thoughts.

"Hey James, long time no see," came a voice that sounded slightly pissed.

And she had every right to be pissed. He didn't show up for the past two days, even after he said he would.

"Clara, I'm sorry. I got a little freaked out after not being able to sleep well for the past few days," Bucky explained. A little honesty would do him good.

Clara played with the zipper on her jacket before responding. It seemed as though she was avoiding something. "James, I think somebody is following me."

 _What?_ That was definitely not what he was expecting her to say.

"Where? Who?"

"I noticed the same man twice when I was on my way back here. He was wearing all black and jogging too. I wouldn't think he was that suspicious if I didn't know that I'm the only person around here who goes for morning jogs. What's worse is that I saw him yesterday."

Oh god. He should have known better than to have gone jogging with her, because whoever was following her was probably after him. And now he'd placed Clara in the line of danger just by going on a jog with her.

But what he really wanted to know was who was following him and why? How had they found him?

Now that whoever was tailing them knew about both him and Clara, it didn't make sense to hold out anymore.

"Then I'll keep going on jogs with you. Also, sorry I can't have lunch with you, but dinner sounds good."

A large smile came across Clara's face. "Really? That sounds great! Starting tomorrow?"

"Yes, starting tomorrow," he said. Starting tomorrow, he'd be trying to find out who was following him and why. He'd also be trying to start some semblance of a normal life by making a friend. Why not hit two birds with one stone?

* * *

To say Clara was terrified was an understatement. What if the authorities had found her? What if the new life she started was about to become destroyed? All she had worked for in her entire life could come crashing down if she got arrested.

Nobody believed she was innocent back home. And why would they? They had 'hard' proof.

 _What a bunch of idiots_ , Clara thought. She'd been framed for a murder and had been wanted ever since; escaping to Romania had been her only option. Only her parents believed her, but it didn't count for much considering they couldn't even provide an alibi.

She briefly considered leaving her apartment before realizing what a dumb move that would be. She'd have to find a new place to live, a new job and meet all new peopleーnot something she was prepared to do considering her financial situation.

Maybe she was just being paranoid and the person jogging was some random man who'd taken up running recently. Besides, James had just agreed to go jogging with her and life had finally been going smooth-sailing since she had fled Hungary.

Or she was delusional.

* * *

 _AN: Oops, I'm not used to writing this much for one chapter, but I know people like long chapters so I'm pretty sure it's a good thing. Also, thanks to those who left feedback last chapter! It really motivates me to write more and write faster._

 _Again, sorry about the hyphens. I should probably fix that issue lol._

 _Thanks to MaryLikesRoses, artemis7488, Ec1aire and Cross for reviewing! It means a lot guys!_


	3. Chapter 3

Clara didn't like the feeling of being watched, which was exactly what she was feeling currently. It was like every eye at the gym was turned on her, despite the fact that they weren't. But it certainly felt that way with the paranoia she had over the man she'd seen earlier in the morning. She had a bit too much to think over, and there was a crawling sensation in her skin.

Thankfully, the gym was a safe haven from all the worrying. It wasn't often they got new faces in the gym, and there wasn't that many people in attendance for her classesーshe'd know if there was a new person, especially if it was the same man from the morning. That, and teaching provided her with a focus in which to channel all the worry.

When her small class of five came in and greeted her, Clara felt immense relief. She was safe, albeit temporarily.

"Okay guys, let's start off with a warm up. Don't want any strained muscles," Clara instructed.

Soon, she got into teaching her class members one on one while they practiced. Her favourite student would definitely be Costel. Unlike everyone she taught, he was a teenager verging on the point of adulthood. He was the youngest as well as the smallest, but he made up for it in agility and spirit.

Clara smiled at Costel as she observed him. "Make sure that your arm isn't too twisted when you punch, okay? Otherwise, you're doing really well."

Costel stopped for a moment and nodded at her.

"I'm going to go take a bathroom break, okay? If anyone needs help, I want you to help them."

"Got it," Costel said.

So Clara left the room and went into the foyer of the gym. It was a tiny entry way that probably needed to be re-done, but it kinda gave off a retro feel to the place. Not her style, but then again, it wasn't her gym. She just worked there.

Clara waved at the girl working at the desk before heading down the hallway to a bathroom. She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard the door squeak open and a man dressed in black athletic gear came inside. She definitely hadn't seen him before as he had ginger hairーa colour nobody at the gym hadーnot to mention, it was the same damn man from earlier!

Clara then hurried to the bathroom in an almost speed-walk pace that would have looked very odd to anybody passing by.

Just who the hell was that man? At this point, Clara didn't think that he was following her because he came to investigate her. No, he must have been following her for other reasons. Which only made it that much more creepy.

It probably was best she didn't go to the bathroom anyways, so she turned around to go back to her class. Maybe if she acknowledged the man's existence, he'd back off and stop being so creepy. Hell, maybe he'd even introduce himselfーanything would be better than him following her around.

"Hi there, I'm Clara," She waved at the man in an effort to get him to talk or introduce himself. Sure, it was one of the most daring things she'd done, going face to face to with a stalker, but it was better than not knowing him.

"Nice to meet you," was all he said, his eyes not quite meeting hers, before going off to some other gym room.

Yep, definitely suspicious.

* * *

Clara had managed to reach the end of the day without seeing the creepy stalker man again, so that was an accomplishment. However, she had yet to walk home. That definitely left room for him to follow her home, not that she would allow him to come anywhere near her. Boxing certainly helped her when it came to self-defence, not to mention, she'd been learning a bit of martial arts from another instructor. The creep didn't stand a chance against her.

So Clara specifically made sure that her hood wasn't drawn up so she could keep alert for the man. If he was walking anywhere near her, she wanted to see him coming because she couldn't rely on the people around her. There weren't many people out and about in her neighbourhood, so there would be nobody looking out.

But, on the bright side, it was beyond sunny and the weather was calm. It was no problem to hear or see the man coming. It was only a short, seven-minute walk home, so really, how difficult could it be?

The first five minutes had gone by quickly and without a complication, but once Clara was nearly home, she saw him again. Maybe she would've never noticed him if she wasn't so paranoid. Otherwise, he was terrible at trying to stay hidden.

He was sitting on a park bench, covering his face with the newspaper, yet it didn't help in any way. Clara recognized the black clothes and his skinny build.

She just couldn't shake him, could she?

Either way, the rest of the walk home was easy.

* * *

Bucky's day had been the same as always since he arrived to Bucharest. Wake up, go to work, get home mentally exhausted and then try to figure out the confusing puzzle pieces that made up his memory. There were memories constantly coming back to him, papers were scattered about in his apartment, and he had an encyclopedia lying on the tableーthere was lots of history that he had to catch up on.

Pouring over a certain passage in the book about industrialization, Bucky became so immersed that he jumped when a sharp knock sounded at his door. It was probably Clara.

Bucky hadn't forgotten about the person following her. In fact, he'd been keeping an eye out just in case somebody was following him. So far, all was good. There wasn't one suspicious person that he could noteーit was difficult to keep track once he was on busy streets, however.

Bucky left the book open but gathered up the scattered papers. Clara would definitely be curious if she so much as got a glimpse of them.

"James, are you home?" She called, fear edging in her voice.

Instead of verbally responding, Bucky rushed to the door and opened it slightly.

Relief flitted across her features. "Oh okay, good. I wanted to ask you if you felt like going out for supper tonight."

"Do you still think that man is following you?" Bucky asked her.

"Yeah, I saw him today. He was at the gym and I said hi, but he didn't really say anything to me. Then I saw him again on my walk home, why?"

Bucky relaxed his grip on the door slightly. "I was worried. It's not exactly comforting that my jogging partner is being stalked," he joked.

Clara positively beamed at the attempt for humour. "Imagine how I feel," she laughed.

Oh, Bucky could imagine alright. In fact, he was probably more worried than she was. Somebody was after him and he wanted to know who it wasーit was too coincidental that the man had started following Clara around the same time Bucky had started to talk to her. Though, oddly enough, Bucky didn't see anyone following him throughout the day. Or maybe they were better at staying hidden.

But he had yet to answer her invitation.

"And yes, we can go for dinner. Just let me grab my jacket," Bucky told her, opening the door further and retreating into the apartment to search for the jacket that had been tossed somewhere. He silently thanked himself tidying up the place so that it looked like the home of somebody leading a somewhat regular life. (Even if the encyclopedia and multiple papers were scattered about on the counter).

"Doing a bit of research?" Clara asked curiously, peeking into the apartment a bit.

Bucky shrugged. "Just looking up some stuff I didn't know."

"And you couldn't do that with the Internet?"

"I don't have a phone."

"What?! How do you live? Do you keep in touch with your family through mail or something?" She asked incredulously.

Those were tough questions that didn't have an easy answer, considering Bucky had no idea what had become of his family. He wished that he could see his mother and sister one last timeーat least to say goodbye. He didn't remember a ton about them, but whenever he thought about them, it brought about a sense of comfort and happiness.

Then, without warning, another memory came back.

 _Steve's mom was laughing as Steve gave the leftovers to Bucky_ _ー_ _who apparently had the appetite of a horse. Bucky thanked her by name_ and- _oh god. Her name was Sarah. Sarah with her head on the table in a pool of blood. Shouting and screaming and crying and-_

"James!" Clara yelled, stepping into the apartment.

Bucky realized he had backed up against the wall. He knew well enough they weren't the same Sarah's, but it was still a terrifying sensation.

"Hey, you okay? You sure you're getting enough sleep? Maybe if your insomnia is really bad you should see a-"

"I'm fine," Bucky mumbled, cutting her off.

Clara stepped a bit closer. "I don't mean to get into your personal life, but you don't really seem okay. You wouldn't respond to me for a minute and it really started to freak me out."

"I skipped breakfast and lunch today, I just think I need something to eat," Bucky lied. In fact, he felt sick to the stomach. But he needed a distraction from the thoughts threatening to take over his mind. Clara was the perfect opportunity to get away from all of those.

"Okay, you good now?"

Bucky nodded.

"Then let's get going. I was thinking that we should go to the restaurant a few blocks down. I went there once and they make some amazing pizza," Clara suggested.

"Yeah, let's go there," he complied. He'd never been to any of the restaurants or cafés around, so he was glad that Clara suggested something, otherwise, he'd be clueless as to what to recommend.

So Bucky followed Clara down the stairs, wondering what exactly to talk about. He used to be great at making conversation, and probably still would be if he had more to talk about. But he didn't exactly have much of a personal life anymore, and the life he had before wouldn't be relevant. Sometimes Bucky wished he could talk to Steve, but he knew that coming out of hiding would only cause problems. Hydra or somebody would come for him.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier, I'm just so used to people having phones I guess," Clara said.

Did she think he was actually upset about that? Obviously, she couldn't know what he was truly upset about, but getting offended by her comment was beyond stupid.

"No, it's okay. I just remembered something I didn't want to remember," he told her, looking down at the ground.

"Oh. Well anyways, I was thinking about what to do with the creepy guy that's following me and I think that he'll back off if he sees you. You're kinda intimidating. I'd try and get rid of him myself, but I don't exactly have the scariest face,"

"Why haven't you gone to the police?" Bucky asked. A good question, because most girls would have gone to the police long ago. Hell, Bucky was starting to think she was fearless what with the stalker and bluntness. She didn't seem to be fazed by anythingーin fact, when she had first told him that she thought somebody was following her, she didn't even seem all that broken up about it.

"The police are useless. Haven't you heard how terribly they treat these kind of issues? They just don't seem to care," Clara said nonchalantly, waving her hand in dismissal.

"So you're just expecting him to go away?"

"No. But if he comes anywhere near me, he'll get a taste of my new martial arts skills. Besides, he's a pretty skinny guy."

She really didn't know who was watching her. Maybe that was a good thing, as Bucky didn't think they would ever go up to her. Maybe he should keep an eye out for the guy she was talking about.

"What does he look like?"

"He has ginger hair, a pale complexion, always wears black and he's pretty damn skinny, it seriously looks like someone stretched him out or something."

That didn't sound familiar to Bucky, but he'd make sure to see if he could spot the man she described. With any luck, he'd find the man and figure out who he was. The only problem was what to do with the man when he was confronted. Bucky couldn't just kill him, that would cause a scene and an investigation. No matter what HYDRA believed about Bucky being the world's most deadly assassin, Bucky didn't feel that way about himself. He didn't want to kill anyone else if he could help itーthe nightmares and memories were already enough.

"Hey James, you keep spacing out. You sure you're fine?"

Bucky focused on his gloved hand that was gliding along the railing. "Yeah, it's just been a rough couple of days."

"You want to talk about it?" Clara asked.

Bucky shook his head. "Nah, it's a bit personal."

"Okay, I've had a bad day too. The creepy guy, I think I'll call him tree man. Anyways, he was at the gym and that was really weird. Then one of my students accidentally knocked me over and I hit my knee really hard so that sucked."

Well, at least Clara kept talking, even if he didn't say much. Didn't she have other people to talk to or something? Why him? Not that he minded; he was starting to really like her, despite how eccentric she was. It was actually pretty refreshing.

Reaching the bottom of the stairwell, Bucky put his cap back on and made sure his hand was coveredーsubtly of course.

And then they began to walk to the restaurant.

* * *

Clara found it nice to be around James. She kinda ran her mouth a lot, but it was nice not to hold back on anything. She was still herself around othersーthe same personality she retained from back homeーbut she found that she didn't have much energy or care to talk to some people. Especially since she was away from anybody she had ever cared about back home. She missed her best friend, her parents, her older brother and really, she missed everyone. Hell, she even missed her old job as a coder.

Coding and boxing were two very different things, but she'd always wanted to try something of the like and the perfect opportunity to try it came up when she moved to Bucharest.

At least the restaurant had some good food and was warm. She'd told James that he should order pizza because the last time she had it, it was delicious. She didn't know how good the rest of the food was, considering the condition the place was in. There were cracks up and down the walls and what seemed like millions of chips in the wooden tables.

The pizza was good, though.

"So are you originally from here, or did you come from another country?" Clara asked him.

"I'm from America," he answered.

America? He was a long way from home. How in the world did he end up in their shitty apartment complex anyways? From what Clara knew about Americaーwhich was a considerable amount considering how much America dominated in the mediaーmost Americans only knew one language, sometimes two. She hadn't met many Americans in her lifetime, and most of the ones she _had_ met were tourists.

"Really, where from? You don't even sound like you have an accent," Clara remarked in surprise, then took a bite of her pizza.

"I'm from New York," James told her, then added on; "My grandparents were from Romania so they taught me some of it when I was growing up. Where are you from? You're not Romanian, not with your accent."

"I'm from Hungary," she answered, not elaborating. He didn't need to know what city, and she couldn't exactly lieーthat, and she was more interested to know about him. "So why'd you move here? It's not like there are lots of reasons to."

James shrugged. "Thought I would see what it's like in Romania. My grandparents talked about it all the time."

If Clara's grandparents had done the same, she still would've stayed in Hungary. She really missed her home, but hey, she wasn't James. It was his life to do with what he wanted. It was just so odd he moved to Bucharest by himself.

"So what do you do for a living? As you already know, I teach boxing."

"Construction work. It's nothing special," he answered blandly.

"Isn't that-" Clara stopped talking when the bell for the restaurant rang.

The guy with the ginger hair walked in, or as she so elegantly put it, tree man walked in. Did he not know when to stop? Maybe this time, he'd see her with James and then he'd leave her alone for good because with whatever he wanted from her, it wasn't going to happen. She was too hyper-aware of herself and the environment around her.

"James, that's him," Clara leaned across the table to tell him, nudging her head in the direction of the table he sat down at. "Should I go say hi? I introduced myself at the gym earlier. Maybe he'll stop being creepy."

"I'll go with you," James said. Clara wasn't expecting that, but she certainly wasn't bothered by it.

And yeah, going up to him was weird, but him following her was just straight up creepy, so he deserved it.

"Hi there, we met at the gym earlier and I didn't catch your name," Clara said, causing him to look up from his menu. He smiled at her before his eyes widened slightly when he noticed James. She knew she made the right decision by asking James to go with her.

The creepy guy didn't stand a chance now. Only one question remained, would he back off?

* * *

 _AN: Man, another longer chapter. I normally write 2000 words, but lately, I've been writing 3000 and it's great._

 _Thanks so much to artemis7448 and harleyquinn87 for reviewing_ last _chapter, It means a lot to me and brings a smile to my face! : )_


	4. Chapter 4

_"When you label so much of what happens to you as 'bad,' it reinforces the feeling that you are a powerless pawn at the mercy of outside forces over which you have no control. And - this is key - labeling something a bad thing almost guarantees that you'll experience it as such."_

-Srikumar Rao

* * *

 _Then, One day later, Bucharest:_

 _Clara had thought that the day would go great. And why wouldn't she? She started the day by jogging with James before going off to work for the day. Classes had been progressing quickly, leading to a positive outlook for the day. That was until Clara had been preparing to walk home and swore she saw some guy with a gun outside through the window._

 _The guy obviously tried to keep it hidden, but that didn't keep Clara from seeing the glint of metal in the harsh sunlight. The man wore all black and looked out of place for the neighborhoodーhis clothes were a bit too clean and the shoes a bit too fancy. Unless he'd gotten lost, Clara regarded him with suspicion. Extreme suspicion._

 _It looked like she'd have to take a weird route home. Normally, the situation would call for the assistance of the police, but that wasn't exactly an option for obvious reasons._

 _So taking the long way home it was._

 _Clara was in disarray as to what the hell the people wanted with herーor if they even wanted anything from herーall she knew was the need to get the hell away from the gym as quick as possible. The suspicious man didn't have anything to do with tree man right? Yeah, he got a little upset at her and James the previous day, but that didn't matter did it?_

 _Clara drew her hood up and grabbed her gym bag, jumping when she heard some doors slam open at the front of the gym. Her heart rate was ready to run a race as she heard some confusion and yelling at the front of the gym from the receptionist._

 _She broke out into a sprint for the back doors of the gym that lead to the alley. She didn't know why, but she figured that the yelling had a lot to do with her and she wanted no part of it. All she knew was that somebody either really hated her, or was watching her and it more than likely didn't have anything to do with the fact that she was wanted in Hungary._

 _And so out the door she rushed, taking the direct opposite way from her home. If only she could call James._

 _Every sound made Clara jump. She would carefully inspect the people around her and made sure to keep on the streets that were at least partly occupied._

 _And when she looked behind her, there were people following her. More than one man. It was like they were trying to be subtle, yet they completely sucked at it. Maybe the creepy tree guy could have blended in, but these guys were buff as hell._

 _In an attempt to escape then, Clara began to run through the crowds of people, taking as many turns and shortcuts as possible while trying to stay in populated areas. Her heart was beating so fast that she swore it was going to burst out of her chest. Or that she'd shake to death because her hands were just not staying still. She'd only felt like this one-time beforeーand that was the time she had to run from home. When she ran, nobody was on her trail yet, so this was a whole other experience._

 _Who the hell were these men and what did they want?_

* * *

 _Then, Yesterday, Bucharest:_

"Clara, right?" The man with ginger hair finally asked after regaining his composure.

Clara nodded, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name earlier," her face brightening up into the most fake smile Bucky had ever seen.

Apparently this man didn't like the question too much because his face scrunched up in thought. People don't just take time to remember their names unless they're an amnesiac. The man in front of them was an agent, there could be no doubt about it. But for who?

Bucky prayed that he wasn't a HYDRA agent, but it was likely. If HYDRA had caught on to his location, then Bucky needed to leave immediately.

"I'm Anton," he finally answered.

"Nice to meet you, Anton, it's great to have another member at the gym," Clara said, emphasizing the name. Bucky didn't know if that was either incredibly brave or extremely stupid.

Bucky suddenly felt tense. All three of them present knew that 'Anton' wasn't who he said he was. In fact, 'Anton' was tense as well. If one were to pay close attention to his body language, they didn't even need to get a verbal response. Anton's feet were tapping on the floor nervously and his fists were clenched up. He didn't seem prepared for a confrontation between them.

Bucky and Clara went back to their table. Now that they'd confronted Anton, they didn't say much towards each other. They were both too tense to do so. It was just silently agreed that they'd eat the pizza quickly and get the hell out of the restaurant because Anton occasionally looked over to them and then hurriedly texted something on his phone.

* * *

Bucky said goodbye to Clara then rushed back to his apartment. He had thought to get out his journal in which to enter everything he currently remembered about himself in summary. If HYDRA truly was on his tail, he never wanted them to take away his identity again. Forgetting Steve again would be the nail in the coffin.

Bucky took out his pen and reached for the journal on the fridge. Some of the edges were frayed, but he didn't mind. All that mattered was the content inside. There was months worth of memories that had come back ever since he'd rescued Steve from a watery graveーgood and bad ones.

Bucky began to flip through the journal for a fresh page before hesitating on one page. For all intents and purposes, it seemed like an insignificant page. There was little writing and no extra information, but Bucky knew it was more than that. This one was a memory from World War IIーone where he thought that he was going to die alone on that torture table before Steve was there. It had felt like a dream at first, but then hope overcame him and he swore it was the most ecstatic he'd ever been in his life. Steve had smiled and for the first time, everything had seemed like it'd be okay.

And even though things didn't go alright after that, Bucky would never forget that surge of hope now that he had the memory back.

But he figured he'd spent too much time reminiscing. He still needed to write down a summary. Feeling odd about writing to himself, Bucky just went with what came to mind.

 _My name is James "Bucky" Barnes, no matter what anyone else says, you're not their soldier or asset. You're Bucky._

 _Steve Rogers, or Captain America, saved you from HYDRA twice, don't fall back into their trap._

 _You come from Brooklyn, where you and Steve grew up together before having to enlist for the war. There, HYDRA experimented on you for weeks before Steve saved you. Later on, you were a part of the Howling Commandos before falling off a train to your supposed death. HYDRA took you and brainwashed you, making you commit dozens of murders in the name of control and world peace._

 _Steve snapped you out of the brainwashing, and ever since, you've been on the run. Avoid HYDRA, avoid SHIELD, avoid anyone from the past._

Bucky hesitated before writing down the last part.

 _There's a woman named Clara who is kind. If she ever sees you, do not harm her. She isn't affiliated with any organization to avoid._

Bucky placed the pen down before making sure to put a special note tab for the page. If he ever lost his memories again, this page was vital.

And with that, he went to sleep.

* * *

Clara was happy to see James show up again to go jogging. This time, for two reasons. One being the fact that he actually showed up, and two being her feeling unsafe what with 'Anton' still roaming around freely. He definitely seemed intimidated by James, so that was a positive.

"I don't think his name is actually Anton," Clara said as they opened the door to outside. A cool breeze hit them, causing Clara to shiver slightly. At least she'd warm up once they started running.

"Probably not," James agreed.

"Okay, I'll admit I'm starting to get a bit scared. I thought that he'd eventually back off or something, but I feel like that won't be the last I'll see him. I don't know what to do," Clara admitted, finally letting her cheery façade slip. She was well aware she didn't have to be happy and spirited every waking moment of her life, but she preferred to be positive when she could. Without optimism, her life would have zero meaning (in her own opinion).

Beside her, James sighed. "We'll figure something out. He can't keep up following you forever."

"Yeah, I'm just scared of what he'll do if he keeps following me. I can take care of myself, but it's still an intimidating thought."

"What time does your work end at?" James suddenly asked.

"Four-thirty. Why?"

"What if I walk home with you once you're off? And you're safe at the gym, right?"

"Yeah I'm safe there, and now that I think about it, that's a great plan. You don't mind do you? You don't have to help me," Clara assured him.

James moved his hair out of his face with his gloved hand. She never cared to ask him why he kept his hand glovedーshe figured it probably had something to do with a burnーso she never said a word about it.

"I don't mind. Besides, you helped me with insomnia."

Clara smiled. "I told you that jogging can help."

James parroted her smile. "I'm well-aware that you did. And this is me thanking you."

So they jogged down their usual route, not saying much to each other. Clara often wondered how James didn't seem too bothered by the amount of running they did, she just attributed to how in shape he seemed. Then again, she didn't look like she was out of shape. She wasn't extremely skinny or anything, but she thought that she was fairly thin. Not only that, but she wasn't short. She was the average height for a woman and had long legs, yet she couldn't seem to jog at the same pace as James without breaking a sweat.

And still, she was grateful that there had been no sign of Anton. Maybe he had backed off after all.

* * *

 _Then, hours later, Bucharest:_

Clara was still running from the men. She didn't know how to shake them, it was like they could track her every move or possessed hawk vision. Why couldn't they have waited until her work ended? They were only minutes before she had to go and was forced to leave James. In fact, if she'd just waited for James, maybe she wouldn't be running in the first place. Or she'd be deadーmaybe it was best she didn't chance it.

She knew that what she did next was a daring move. She was starting to get desperate, and in return, she was confronted by someone who was slowly walking down the alley as if she was too intimidated by him to run. And whoever he was, he was right. Clara knew she couldn't turn back because there was possibly more people after her. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a loud popping noiseーpresumably a gunーand jumped.

Was this the end for her?

The man narrowed in on her and all she could think about was how confused she was. What had she done to deserve this? She thought that she'd be able to defend herself and everything would be okay. But she couldn't shield herself from a gun.

He was up close to her now, and she could make out his appearance better. Dark hair and dark eyes, a tall build and all black clothing. He had a gun at his sideーit wasn't drawn, which only served to confuse Clara.

"What do you want?" Clara asked, surprised at how steady and confident her voice sounded.

"You ran away from us, don't play that game. You full well know what we want," he said, still getting closer. At the end of the alley, someone else came around the corner. They had ginger hair and a tall buildーit was Anton. Clara found herself regretting confronting him suddenly.

She wondered what James would thinkーwhat her family would thinkーabout her showing up dead on the news. Would people back home even care?

Anton strided over to Clara quickly, a clear intent in his eyes. "How much do you know about the Winter Soldier?" He questioned, slamming her against a brick wall. Of all the alleys Clara had to go through, she just happened to pick the dark secluded one.

"I don't understand?" Clara said. And she truly didn't know what they were demanding of her. The name 'Winter Soldier' sounded slightly familiar, but not to her own personal life. She figured it probably related to some sort of terrorist stuff, but then again, she rarely ever picked up a newspaper or watched the news.

"Don't play games with us!" The other man yelled, fire blazing in his eyes. He drew out the gun from his holster slowly, and Clara wondered how the hell he'd kept it hidden from the public so well. "The more you tell us, the higher chance you get of leaving here."

Clara didn't believe him for a second. "Then at least tell me what you're talking about!" She pleaded.

Anton shared a look with the other man.

"I thought you said she knows these things!" The man raged at Anton.

"I guess I was wrong," Anton replied defensively.

"Sorry girl, but it looks like you got mixed up in the wrong situation. It's a shame because you're so pretty, but HYDRA doesn't leave witnesses."

All Clara remembered was fear and nothing else before the was some sort of skirmish. Anton fell to the ground from something Clara didn't see and next she knew, pain exploded from her shoulder and she fell down.

There was a bit more yelling and she couldn't keep her eyes open.

Everything went black.

* * *

Clara came to slowly, her eyes fluttered before closing again. She didn't know where she was, but she knew it wasn't a hospital, and she certainly wasn't dead.

 _"HYDRA doesn't leave witnesses,"_ echoed in Clara's mind.

She sat bolt upright and nearly cried out at the sharp needle-like pain in her shoulder. She breathed in and out sharply, taking in her surroundings. They were similar to her apartment, if a bit less furnished.

"Don't try to get up," James said suddenly.

Clara nearly gasped in surprise from not expecting his voice before reaching for the shoulder in which she got shot. There was a bandage tightly wrapped around her that felt like it was only there to pain her further.

"How-"

James cut her off. "You were pretty difficult to find after work you know," he remarked, then continued. "I made sure they won't be bothering you anymore, and I figured that you didn't want the police involved."

"What? But my shoulder, where did you... You're a veteran aren't you?"

It all made sense to her. He couldn't sleep at night, was oddly silent and looked the part. Not to say he was bad looking... He was just rugged.

James looked temporarily surprised before nodding. "You might want to call into work because that shoulder won't heal quickly."

"Those men, they said HYDRA. I... I know that HYDRA was a rogue Nazi science division, and something happened with them in America recently. But what the hell do they want with me, I don't understand."

"They're crazy. I don't know what they'd want with anyone," James suggested.

Clara thought on it for a moment. There was no indication they were ever interested in her until recently. In fact, it happened only days after she met James. He had an odd skill set, was kind yet very distant, gloved hand, maybe... No. Clara had a sudden clarity where everything came together. They kept asking about the Winter Soldier and she didn't even know who that was. Everything started to happen _after_ she met James.

"Hey, James."

"Yeah?"

"I think that if you had a phone, this could've been prevented," she stated. Clara watched as James' face showed some regret.

"I'm sorry, maybe I should-"

"That was a joke," Clara laughed weakly.

It seemed almost surreal to her, that this man could possibly be pretending to be someone else. He'd been kind to her, and given her no reason to distrust himーbandaging her arm was proof of that. But she seriously had to consider it. Was she talking with the Winter Soldier? Who exactly was the Winter Soldier anyways? Maybe she needed to spend some time doing research.

She didn't tell James of what Anton and the other man asked, just in case.

* * *

 _AN: Haha, poor Clara just wanted to have a good time, and now she's being sucked into the world of superheroes._

 _Thanks so much for all the kind reviews, you guys make my day! Thank you to **harleyquinn87, IntoTheDeep27, artemis7448, mlr96** , **and Civic1980!**_


	5. Chapter 5

"You can talk with someone for years, everyday, and still, it won't mean as much as what you can have when you sit in front of someone, not saying a word, yet you feel that person with your heart, you feel like you have known the person for forever... connections are made with the heart, not the tongue."

-C. JoyBell C.

* * *

Some days, Bucky didn't know how to consider himself. Was he helpful and kind, blending into society nicely? Or did he stick out? Was he abrasive and distant? He didn't know what to make of himself with the two conflicting sides of his personality always at war with each other.

Clara brought about some peace to his mind through her presence. _She_ talked to him first and _she_ was the once constantly asking him questions and activity chatted to him. It felt surreal after the amount of time he'd spent on his own once he escaped Washington DC. In a way, he almost felt as though he owed her.

And his repayment was saving her from the HYDRA agents. The absolute panic he'd felt when he'd heard the gunshots and scream were still fresh on his mind as he heard Clara shift in her fitful sleep.

It was ironic that HYDRA's training had backfired on them; he knew how to make the agent's deaths look like an accident, he knew how to bandage up Clara and he knew how to get away while blending in. Even with an injured Clara he practically had to drag along before he got to his apartment. Thankfully, there was no damage to her nerves and arteriesーthere might have been some damaged bones, but he couldn't tell for sureーhe just had to cover up the wound by any means. At first, that had meant covering her shoulder with his jacket, and later on, the small amount of medical supplies he had for the 'just in case' scenarios.

Thankfully, Clara wasn't in a critical condition as long as the wound was kept clean. However, she probably wouldn't be able to do any physical activity for a while. He didn't know for how long, though, as he wasn't any sort of medical specialist.

When Clara had woken up and asked him about HYDRA, he temporarily had panic shoot through him. He'd simply written them off as crazy and she believed it. She even came to the conclusion that he was a veteran (which technically wasn't wrong). How long would it be before she figured out there was more to the situation? Or maybe she wouldn't think too hard on it and never come to the conclusion that it was all linked to him, regretfully. He was right in the first place; he should've never gotten close to her.

But now it was too late to back away, there'd be no point to it. They already knew about him and Clara.

Clara started babbling on about some books she wanted to read now that she had the time and Bucky nodded along to her rambling while thinking of ways to eliminate the HYDRA cell on his trail. He'd already taken a look on their persons, and they had no clues that would allow him to track them down. Hopefully, they were the only agents in the area, however unlikely.

"James?" Clara asked loudly.

"Huh?"

"You were zoning out again. It looked like you saw Casper the ghost," she laughed.

"Who?" He asked, not understanding.

"Casper the ghost?" She repeated, then saw his confused expression. "Okay, never mind. Anyways, I wanted to ask if you could go get my phone or something from my room. I won't have to stay lying down like this for very long, will I?"

"I'm not a medical expert, but I think you should keep your arm still for a day. Just to be safe, and yeah, I'll go get your phone. Where did you leave it?"

Clara began to laugh a little, before forcing herself to stop so that her shoulder wouldn't be hurt. Bucky noticed she was one of those people who laughed with their whole body.

"I have no idea where I left my phone, and the place is an absolute mess. You might have to dig around a bit, sorry. Also, did you get my bag?"

Bucky nodded, picking up her bag that he'd left behind the counter. "This the one?"

"Yep," she nodded. "My key is in the tiny front pocket, and you know what my room number is, right?"

"Yeah," he answered, digging in the front pocket. There were some hair elastics and cards mixed in with the key chain.

"This the one?" He held up the key chain for her to see. She gave a sharp nod as an answer.

"Man, getting shot by a gun sucks ass," Clara said as he was leaving.

"Guess you better try harder to not get shot next time," Bucky taunted.

"Guess you better get a phone next time," she retorted.

At least this time he knew she was joking, and snickered at her comment before closing the door behind himself.

* * *

Clara wasn't joking when she said that her apartment was a mess. There were books and unwashed dishes scattered across her desk while blankets and sweaters littered her small couch. There was also unwashed dishes on the counters as well as a ton of paperwork. Her apartment seemed to lack a personal touch, aside from the mess it was. Photos of family members and paintings were absent, and there wasn't a whole lot of decorations.

At least her room didn't have peeling wallpaper and had actual shelves.

He didn't know where to start looking for her phone, as it wasn't out in the open. Bucky started with her desk, thinking it was buried under paper or something, but it was absent from there too. Not knowing where she'd put it down, he did the least intrusive search possible to find the damn thing. He didn't even know what it looked like. Was it silver? Was it old or new? He probably would be able to tell what kind it was if Clara told him anyways.

And of course, in the last place he looked, he'd find the damn thing. It was half buried underneath her pillow on her bed, glinting dimly in the minimal light her lamp provided.

Bucky went to pick it up, but something on her side table caught his eye. It was a letter, that much was clear from the way it was folded. However, it had a drawing on it that was quite beautiful. The flower drawn on it covered most of the letter that wasn't text, and Bucky justified reading it to make sure that Clara wasn't anyone suspicious, though most of that doubt had gone away the second HYDRA had shot her in the shoulder.

 _I know you haven't heard from me in a long time, but I want to let you know that I still think about you_ everyday _and I hope you're okay without me. It's painful to be away from everyone, but you most of all. I know how close we were, and I hope that I'll get to see you again one day. Maybe everything will be cleared up by then,_

 _Andris_

Bucky placed the letter down in its original spot and tried to understand its contents. It seemed to be the type of letter that wasn't understandable unless you were either the person writing it or the person receiving it. Maybe Clara had a boyfriend somewhere that had moved away. But then again, he didn't see any postage or an address on it. He had no idea what it meant and felt bad for even reading it.

Clara would also be wondering where he went.

* * *

James seemed to be taking his sweet time in her apartment, Clara thought. She knew her place was a mess, but how hard was it to find one phone? It was probably out in the open and was big enough to find easily.

She still couldn't get her head around being shot, however. That was not some every day occurrence if an occurrence in a person's life at all. That, and there was the fact that she actually trusted James to go in her apartment. She wasn't sure if he was actually who he said he was, even if the description of veteran did fit him.

Finally, the door squeaked open and in walked James. He had her phone on hand as well as a book and her keys.

"Took you long enough," Clara remarked.

"Hey, just be grateful I got you your stuff in the first place. And you were right, your place is a mess," he told her, setting her stuff down on the bed beside her.

"Okay, okay, thank you for saving me, really. And thanks for getting my phone _and_ a book. Glad you were actually listening."

"I'm not really that rude, am I?" He asked, looking confused.

Clara hesitated. Normally people would say that as a joke, but he seemed completely serious. It was odd, considering they were joking a few minutes ago.

"Why would you say that?" Clara said, somewhat worried.

"Never mind, forget I said that," he feigned a smile, but Clara could tell he meant it. She let it go.

"Okay, well I'm going to have to try and use my phone with one, non-dominant hand. This is going to be fun," Clara said sarcastically, changing the topic for him.

He didn't seem to understand what she was talking about and went back to whatever he was doing with the encyclopedia.

Clara, on the other hand, had a good idea. She was going to look up anything she could about the Winter Soldier and HYDRA immediately. Yeah, she was pretty scared about what she would find, but to her, it was better than not knowing what she was facing. People always said that ignorance was bliss, but Clara thought that was another way of saying apathy brought about happiness; apathy got people nowhere.

Firstly, Clara typed the Winter Soldier into Google, before realizing the Internet didn't extend to James' room.

"I don't suppose you have Wi-Fi, do you?" Clara questioned.

James shook his head.

"God dammit," Clara swore. "Now I have to use data."

"It's the end of the world," he mocked her.

"For my bank account, yeah," she defended herself. Clara was glad that James was back to joking around with her. When they first met, he was pretty quiet and made little attempt to entertain. She was glad that was different now.

Clara grudgingly turned her data on and looked at the results that came up on her screen. There were news articles dating from recent times all the way back to nearly a year ago. Clara decided to click on the Wikipedia article to get the most generalized idea of who the Winter Soldier was.

So far, what she'd gotten from the article was that he was an assassin that worked for HYDRA who was responsible for dozens of deaths throughout the years. Some deaths even dated back to the late 1950's, which really confused Clara. Wouldn't that make the Winter Soldier too old to assassinate people from the twentieth century?

Clara scrolled down the article further, looking for some sort of explanation only to come across a bit titled as 'The Howling Commando Scandal.'

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as to what it meant and kept reading.

Apparently, in the past few months, people had begun to identify the Winter Soldier as Captain America's long-dead best friend, Bucky Barnes. Who, by all means, should have been dead. He'd been declared KIA during World War II.

Clara went back to the search feed to get a look at the more recent articles, only to recoil in surprise when she saw a picture of James' face as the picture for the article. Underneath the photo, there was a small description:

 _Sgt. James Barnes, planning an attack beside Steve Rogers, otherwise known as Captain America (1943)_

Clara couldn't believe it. That was definitely the same person as the man standing in the same room as her; same handsome features and everything. The only difference would the shadows under his eyes and the rugged hair. Every other feature was still the same, it was as though he'd barely aged a year since the photo was taken. But how the hell was that even possible? She knew that they'd found Captain America frozen and brought him back. That had been on the news non-stop for weeks, but it didn't explain how James was alive.

Clara's heart was beating wildly while she clicked on another article.

This one was about innocence and reasonable doubt.

 _We all know the story of Captain America coming back, it's all plausible: he was given a super-soldier serum that was never re-created and was frozen for years. But for a regular man like James Barnes to still be alive? It's unthinkable._

Clara had to stop for a moment so that she didn't laugh out loud. It was a bit inappropriate given her situation and the article she was reading, but it was just so ironic that he was standing in the same room as her. Either way, she continued on.

 _If he was, we'd be faced to explain how this man has been credited with so many assassinations over the years while still appearing in his twenties. We'd also be faced with the fact that he was a war-hero turned traitor to our country. Instead, we should look at what we do know. HYDRA was under America's nose the entire time, who's to say they aren't in the media too? Even with the leaked files, they don't confirm the identity of the Winter Soldier. All we know from those files is the confirmed kills and way they conditioned the Winter Soldier. (A caution for the reader, the files are not for the feint of heart if you decide to read them)._

 _But that leaves one question: where is the Winter Soldier and where is he hiding? Will the US government bring justice to the Americans whose lives have been stolen during the fall of SHIELD. We have yet to receive updates until later next week. Until then, stay tuned on other updates for the Winter Soldier._

Clara couldn't take it anymore. She shut her phone off and stared at the blank screen with her face in the reflection. She couldn't bring herself to believe that she was lying down in the Winter Soldier's apartment, after he had just bandaged up her arm. But he couldn't possibly be HYDRA, because it didn't make any sense. He saved her from the two agents, he seemed to be surprised by Anton's presence just as Anton seemed surprised by him.

In fact, everything made so much sense. It was just difficult to wrap her head around it all. If he really was an assassin, what in the hell was he doing in the shithole building they lived in. Something wasn't right.

Clara turned her phone on again and looked further into who exactly Sergeant James Barnes really was. Apparently he'd grown up in New Yorkーjust as he'd told her when they went for dinner he also found at Captain America's side during the way and was known to be fiercely loyal and a great shot. Supposedly, he'd died by falling off a moving train in the Alps.

None of what she looked up made the gap between the war and current times make any sense. She only had more questions than what she had started off with. The only way to know more would be to ask James himself, but she didn't want to do that just yet.

Only minutes before they'd been joking around with each other and he'd been nice enough. Especially to that kid when she first met him, but now she wasn't sure if it was all a façade or not. Yet, as was a common saying; actions spoke louder than words. And his actions had proved a lot.

Clara groaned as she moved her shoulder. It was constantly emitting an achy pain that was dull, but couldn't be ignored. If she so much as shifted a muscle in her shoulder, she would feel a sharp pain.

"Do you want a painkiller?" James asked her.

Clara froze for a moment before nodding her head. She didn't look him in the eyes while answering.

She was panicking inwardly as she heard him dig through the cupboards and fill up a glass of water. He walked towards her, the glass of water in his gloved hand.

 _The gloved hand._

She had seen the metal arm as a trademark of the Winter Soldier. Clara had definite visual confirmation at this point.

The accepted the glass cautiously, before disregarding the notion of danger. If he had wanted to kill her at any point, he could've easily left her to die.

"Thanks," Clara finally said, setting the glass down beside her on the floor and putting the pill in her hand.

She swallowed it back quickly and took a swig of water. God knows how many times she got headaches while staring at the computer screen and coding. Life was definitely simpler back then.

"What are you doing over there?" Clara questioned him, curious as to what all the paper was for. Especially the book he kept writing in.

"When I'm bored I read about stuff I don't know," James replied.

Clara didn't believe it for a second. If anything, his answer only supported the theory that he was, in fact, from the 1940's. Man, if only the man who wrote that article could hear this, she thought.

"What were you just reading about?"

"The second world war," he told her without expanding.

If he'd been 'KIA' during the war, then he wouldn't have known how it ended. Yeah, that author would really be shooting himself if he heard all of this.

"And this is why a phone and internet would be helpful. You can look up literally anything, you know."

"I think I'm good with the book. Everything is right there in front of you," he countered.

"Yeah, but what if it's not in the encyclopedia? And just how old is that one anyways?"

James went to pick it up and looked at the front page. "2004," he answered.

"Can you read some of it to me? I'm pretty bored just lying here. I need to text my manager first, though."

"Why do you want me to read it?"

Clara laughed. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it's quite difficult to read a book with one arm available," she inwardly cringed at the last part of what she said, realizing the whole arm thing with him. At least he didn't know that she knew.

"Okay fine, I'll read it."

"Thank you," Clara said.

She opened up her phone again and texted her manager, making sure to let him know she wouldn't be in for a little while. Obviously, she couldn't state the exact reason.

James began to read out parts of the encyclopedia to her, and she listened along patiently. She even learned new things that she never thought to read more about, and some of the parts he read to her were completely new to her.

Towards the end of reading, he began to slow down. Even stumbled over a few lines. Clara didn't say anything about it, she just figured it was him zoning out again. She was getting tired and evidently he was too. A quick glance at the window and she knew it was getting to be pretty late at night.

After a while, he stopped all together and they both didn't say anything; they had a silent understanding and before Clara knew it, he'd fallen asleep slumped against the wall.

Maybe he did have insomnia like he said. It was probably catching up with him.

Clara took it as her chance to see, once and for all if he truly was the Winter Soldier or not. She was at least ninety percent sure, but she needed the confirmation.

Clara reached over and pressed against the arm where his hand was gloved. It wasn't like human limbs, that was for sure.

Clara was faced with the Winter Soldier, and she didn't know what to make of it.

* * *

 _AN: Bucky is the hardest character I've ever had to write, I swear to god. If he was just Bucky before he was brainwashed, that would be no problem. But I feel like the Bucky post-CA:TWS is such a complicated and mixed character. He'll go from being really angsty to recounting silly memories with Steve and bantering with Sam so it's really difficult to get a read on how he's doing in Civil War. I guess he's just a complicated character now. I'm trying my best and I hope I'm doing okay!_

 _Also, sorry for the lack of dialogue in this chapter. (Or at least, the short snippets of it)._

 _If you look 'Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes' you can find the photo that I talked about in the chapter ;)_

 _Thanks to **Marylikesroses, Civic1980, mrs-landers, artemis7441,** and **inperfection** for reviewing! Reviews honestly make my day! :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_"In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act."_

-George Orwell

* * *

Bucky woke up with his neck feeling cramped and his sides hurting. Beside him, Clara was sleeping deeply and sunlight was beginning to stream through the windows, if a bit weakly, as it was still dawn. He didn't understand how he'd fallen asleep so unguarded in an uncomfortable position. Even more so, he didn't understand how he fell asleep reading. And sadly, he wouldn't be going on a jog that morning.

Though most importantly, he wasn't woken up early from a nightmare. He'd sleep peacefully the entire time, despite the cramped up sleeping positionーit was something he'd gotten used to after HYDRAーbut now that he had a bed to call his own, sleeping against a wall was uncomfortable again.

Bucky looked back over to where Clara was sleeping and decided it would be nice to make a breakfast for her to wake up to. It wouldn't be anything fancy, as he didn't have a whole lot of food around, but he could at least make a bowl of cereal for her.

"Clara," Bucky said, shaking her as gently as possible.

Clara shifted a little and mumbled something.

"Clara," Bucky repeated, this time louder.

Clara finally opened her eyes slightly then cringed away from the harsh sun beaming through the window. Bucky was stricken by the realization that her eyes weren't brown and were actually hazel. She looked him in the eyes temporality, seeming surprised at his presence.

"Why don't you have blinds?" Clara asked. That was not what Bucky was expecting for her to say.

He backed away from her. "Don't need them."

"But newspapers are necessary to cover the windows?"

Bucky smiled. "I guess not. At least there's some privacy that comes from it. By the way, I made breakfast. I didn't have much so it's only cereal."

Clara struggled to sit up the best she could and made a face of pain with one arm temporarily out of commission. "I don't know how I'm going to eat cereal."

"I can help you get up to the table, you know."

"Okay."

Bucky watched as Clara blinked the sleep out of her eyes and cautiously sat up. She seemed to be fairly shaky, which was normal for the amount of blood she'd lost. Bucky held out his flesh hand for her to balance herself which she took with a death-grip as he helped her walk to the table. It wasn't a long walk as his apartment wasn't exactly the largest place (not to mention the bed was right across from the makeshift table).

Bucky put the cereal down in front of her and sat down across from her, also placing a bowl down for himself. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

Clara froze up for a moment, which he considered odd. Normally she'd fire a response back right away. "Fine."

"Does your shoulder still hurt?"

"Yeah, it not as bad as yesterday though," she explained.

Bucky took a look at her shoulder and realized there was blood covering her dark shirt that he wasn't able to see in the evening lightーor he'd forgotten about it after all that had happened. He couldn't remember. The gauze surrounding the wound also needed to be changed, otherwise she'd get an infection.

"You're going to have to change your shirt, and the gauze too."

Clara's eyes widened as she had apparently just realized that he'd need to take off her shirt in order to dress the shot. That, and he'd done it earlier in order to save her.

"After I'm done eating?" She asked quietly.

Bucky nodded and ate his breakfast too. The apartment felt empty with the near-silent atmosphere. There was only the sound of birds and cars on roads blocks away. Clara didn't even start chatting as she would normally do, instead she looked rather sullen and poked around at her cereal with her non-injured hand.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Bucky finally asked after a long period of silence.

"As fine as I could be with a hole in my shoulder. Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"Why would you be asking me that?"

"Never mind," Clara refuted.

Why wouldn't he be okay? Aside from insomnia, he should appear perfectly fine to Clara. She didn't know a thing about what he'd been through, so why would she ask such a question? Even after taking out the HYDRA members the previous day, he felt fineーit wasn't like they had injured him.

"I'm finished eating now," Clara stated, bringing Bucky's attention back to reality. He collected the bowls and placed them by the sink and then grabbed the first aid kit from the cupboard.

Clara looked tense for what seemed like the first time, even after the whole Anton situation. Being shot definitely must have affected her more than she'd care to admit; she didn't even pull the smiles she graced him with often. Then again, that was pretty normal considering she wasn't used to being shot at or dealing with stalkers that wanted you dead. Hell, even he wasn't used to it and it'd been the entirety of his life for seventy years.

Bucky grabbed the gauze from the kit and watched as Clara stood up slowly.

* * *

Clara watched carefully as James gathered up the gauze and pulled out hydrogen peroxide and a few swabs. Immediately, Clara could tell that this was going to hurt like a bitch. Just the act of moving her arm was enough to cause significant pain, let alone lifting up her arm to take off her shirt. She almost blushed at the thought, but willed herself not to. It wasn't that he was going to clean it then, it was more about the fact that he'd done it once while she was unconscious.

Lifting up her shirt was a struggle. She'd gotten her arm through the first sleeve, but taking it off of her head and other arm was more of a challenge.

"Here," James said, helping her out of the shirt.

When Clara finally had it off, she found herself being thankful that she still had her sports bra on. At least it was less revealing.

James had his back turned to her. She tossed her shirt on the bed while sitting back down on the chair. Her shoulder felt as though it was tearing in half and would fall off. To put it plainly, it still hurt a lot more than she let on.

James came back over and inspected the bandage over her shoulder. Bits of blood had bled through all the way, indicating the wound needed to be changed or she'd be faced with an infection and she couldn't go to the hospital.

He started to peel away the gauze, which only caused further pain. Clara tried not to make a sound or move, but it was quite difficult. She didn't want to look at the wound. Not because she was afraid of blood, but because she didn't want to see how deep it had gone. Obviously James had stitched it up, but it just bothered her immensely.

James hesitated for a moment. "I need to clean it with some hydrogen peroxide, okay? It's going to sting."

Clara nodded.

"You should be glad there was an exit wound, because I wouldn't know how to dig up the bullet. Stitching it up was easy enough," he elaborated as he poured the peroxide onto a swab.

Clara listened to his deep breathing as he began to gently clean her shoulder up. It didn't sting at first. James just calmly wiped away the dried blood as he neared the wound. Clara hissed in pain at the stinging sensation; she'd had her fair share of injuries at the gym, but this one had to take the winning prize for being the most painful. Then, without warning, James put the peroxide directly over her cut on the side where it exited, and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from crying out in pain.

"Almost done," he encouraged her, still deftly swiping away at the backside. "Just the front side left now."

Clara blinked her eyes rapidly to keep any tears from forming. "Okay."

James moved around to her other side and she eyed his gloved hand, remembering who she was dealing with. How could someone who did such terrible things have such a gentle touch? Yet another reason why she couldn't believe the whole Winter Soldier thing. Killing people just seemed so ruthless and out of character for who he was, especially around her. But then again, that could all be a rouse.

He brushed over the front side, and this time it didn't hurt as much. James backed away a bit to make sure that her shoulder seemed fine, but then he glanced to Clara's side. She followed his gaze to her torso in curiosity before realizing what he was looking at.

He traced over the bit of skin where she had a scar. James seemed fascinated by her scar that was covered with a tattoo of a flower, it was a drawing she had done by herself and had asked to be tattooed on her. It brought some peace to the memory of how she got the scar, but as James traced it, Clara felt goosebumps cover her skin and she nearly shivered. The sensation of his fingers running down her abdomen was thrilling, yet at the same time she couldn't help but be brought back to the terrible events that had caused the scarring; the event that had changed her life permanently.

"How'd you get this?" He asked quietly.

"I... Don't want to talk about that right now. Not after yesterday," She said. And so they continued on their cycle of dodging questions and never pressing each other for more information.

James withdrew from her personal space and Clara found herself missing his presence. His face had a strong jaw, she noted. He also had brilliant blue eyes and stubble that fit his face nicely. She definitely hadn't looked at James in that light until that incredibly intimate moment they had just shared.

She couldn't let herself get that close to him, couldn't tell him about herself while she had yet to figure out anything about the Winter Soldier. For all she knew, he could still be out killing people, however, it seemed unlikely. Clara had to keep the possibility that James was actually a murderer in mind.

She knew one thing about him almost for sure. He had no intention of harming her, not after how much he'd helped her.

So she devised a plan; see how many hints she could drop before James got suspicious enough and brought the subject up himself.

After he'd temporarily lost control of himself and curiosity got the better of him, he didn't say a word to Clara for a while. Not until she asked him to go get a fresh shirt for herーshe could barely walk without assistanceーotherwise, she'd do it herself.

So again Bucky was sent to Clara's apartment. This time, he knew that he couldn't take long, but he had to see if the flowers drawn on that letter were the same as the ones tattooed onto her torso.

He quickly dug through the dresser in the corner that seemed to be falling apart and took the first shirt he found. It was a baggy black t-shirt with no design, so he was sure Clara wouldn't mind. Not that he knew a whole lot about fashion in the 20th century, but he'd observed enough to fit in. It was just that style had changed drastically for women while the concept for men was still somewhat the same if a bit less formal.

Bucky then went to Clara's side table and picked up the letter, inspecting the flowers drawn on to it. They were the exact same ones; daisies that were drawn in a sketch-like fashion while still being a nice drawing to look at. It reminded Bucky of some of the sketches Steve had shown him once upon a time. Sometimes Steve would even sketch Bucky and then Bucky would always laugh at how Steve had messed up some minuscule detail then insist it was still a good drawing.

But what Bucky really wanted to know was what the flowers meant. And what did the letter mean?

Bucky brought Clara back a shirt and helped her into it. It was going to be a long week for them both with Clara being wholly dependent on him to help her while she was still shaky. At some point, he'd have to help her back into her place again.

Clara had finally been moved back to her place again, but that didn't mean she was independent. Bucky had to make her dinner as well as help her move around some places. It was even silently agreed that they'd stick together after the HYDRA incident. This time, Clara had told him to stay over and read again.

In her exact words: "Can you read to me again, I really liked it. But this time, we're not going to read the encyclopaedia because we both don't need to fall asleep yet."

And so Bucky read a book to her and then she began to teach him how to use her phone. It wasn't complicated, there was just so much to remember and so much information presented to him at one time. The concept of texting and phoning was easy; he already knew about those. The Internet was a bit more abstract, but still easy enough. Clara told him about social media, and that was when it was a bit out of his understanding.

But oddly, she'd made a weird comment. "I can understand why you don't get it," and she didn't say anything else further.

He wasn't stupid, this was the second time she'd said something of the nature. She'd also asked if he was okayーwhich hadn't made any sense at the time.

Two days later and she was still acting oddly. Not in the sense that her personality had changed, as she was back to her peppy self, but she kept asking or saying strange things to which he didn't understand the implications.

But one time, that same evening, he'd almost panicked.

"Isn't it strange how HYDRA started to follow me only days after I met you?" She had asked aloud as they were individually doing their own things. Clara was on her phone while he was reading the encyclopaedia again. He looked up to meet her eyes and only received an expectant look, one he didn't know how to answer. Of course, he wasn't just going to tell her that he was the Winter Soldier, that would've had a terrible outcome.

Instead, Bucky nodded. He pretended that he believed it was all one crazy coincidence because there was no way she'd come up with the conclusion he was the Winter Soldier.

It was four days after Clara had been shot and she was better about being independent. She didn't need his help to stand up anymore nor did she need him to help her get her shirt off. (Even if she still needed him for cleaning the wound).

Clara made comments on his cooking, often complimenting how much she liked the food. It was like she was surprised he could actually cook, and he didn't know why that would be so surprising. But Clara especially liked it when he read for her. She had an abundance of free time and was always excited for Bucky to come homeーhome meaning either of their placesーafter working.

"Can't you start up a hobby or something?" He'd asked her as she stared up at the ceiling in boredom.

"I'd love to but I don't have a computer and my dominant hand doesn't exactly work. Boxing was my hobby, and always will be. But seeing as how that's not an option currently, I probably can't start a hobby."

"What about listening to radio or music?" Bucky asked.

"Radio? What is this, the 1930's? The only time I've listened to radio is in the car," Clara told him, shifting to sit up on her couch. It looked as though that was still painful for her to do.

"You can't listen to radio on your phone?"

"Well yeah, but I've never done it before."

"So then try it," Bucky suggested. He missed hearing the news announced from a staticky radio and an over-enthusiastic newscaster. Compared to some of the TV in the 20th century, radio was pretty unimpressive but at least it felt familiar. Even with the constant ads.

Clara put on a news station and sat back on the couch relaxing while Bucky put down the encyclopedia to focus in on the news. He hadn't been paying much attention to what was going on in the world, aside from some Romanian news he'd overhear.

He only half paid attention when they had a bit on soccer, as he didn't really pay attention to the sport. He didn't even care too much when there was some discussions about the EU. He only perked his head up once they began to mention the main story of the day.

 _"The team of Avengers were spotted earlier today in Brazil as they appeared to be undertaking some mission they haven't let a statement out about. So far there is no known damage to be reported on, but it begs the question: why are they there? Some people were able to take photos of Captain America as he instructed the team before they disappeared."_

Bucky allowed himself to relax. Whatever they were doing, it was far from his trail. He didn't need to be mixed up in the spotlight again; certainly not when HYDRA was still kicking around.

"So, would you ever introduce me to Steve if you had the chance? I heard he's really friendly," Clara said in a cheerful voice that didn't seem cheery at all.

Bucky tensed up. She was just joking, right?

"James, or should I say 'Bucky,' I've known who you are for a while. I didn't want to say anything because... I don't know why I didn't say, but at first, I was terrified of HYDRA coming for me and I thought you were a part of them. Then I realized that would make no sense. I don't know who you are, but I know one thing for sure. You're not actually HYDRA. They don't have a track record of being nice to people."

"But you know what I've done?"

"Yeah, and I feel like an explanation is in order before I start making more assumption than I already have."

And that was the moment Bucky knew Clara was someone special.

* * *

 _AN: Oh boy, poor Bucky has to come clean now. And Clara will have to at some point too ;) she was a little pushy this chapter, but I think that's okay given she was just shot and her friend is apparently an assassin._

 _Next chapter is a lot of explanations and a lot of sad stuff :( it's like hurt/comfort, fluff, and angst mixed into one big chapter._

 _Thanks to **inperfection** and **Marylikesroses** for reviewing, it means a lot!_


	7. Chapter 7

_"In the end, you have to choose whether or not to trust someone."_

-Sophie Kinsella

* * *

If all your dark secrets were out on the table, you'd feel exposed. It would be as if everyone knows every intimate detail about yourself; like they were judging as harshly as possible instead of just listening. Clara was staring at him intently, waiting for some type of response. But quite honestly, he didn't know where to start. There was so much to the explanation she wanted and sometimes Bucky couldn't remember some of the details to the story. There were still blank spots to where he knew there should be memories.

Instead, Bucky reigned in his shock and stood up, cautious of Clara's next move. Would she report him to the authorities? Given the fact that he'd saved her from death and took care of her over the past few days, it seemed unlikely. But not impossible; it was hard to trust after HYDRA's brainwashing.

"What are you going to do?" Bucky asked. He wouldn't allow himself to be taken in by the authorities, they wouldn't understand. And then HYDRA could get to him again. All he wanted to do was live the most peaceful life possible while getting back memories.

"I want you to explain how you got here from doing what you did. I bet you could earn quite the salary off of assassinations."

Bucky shook his head. "It's much more complicated than that."

"Explain it to me. We have all the time in the world tonight," Clara insisted while getting up. She stood across from him and was starting intensely. It seemed that she wouldn't leave him alone until she received an explanation, which was understandable considering people thought he was a stone-hearted assassin.

Bucky averted his gaze from her. "What do you know?"

"I know that you're responsible for dozens of assassinations in the past seventy years... Though I don't know how. Apparently you're Captain America's long-dead best friend and work for HYDRAーeven though I don't believe that."

Bucky's heart was pounding. How was she not scared of him? Yet again she didn't seem to be frightened when she should have been. He was the nervous one in the room, because how do you explain killing people without having wanted to kill them? Clara was just an ordinary woman who hadn't experienced war or HYDRA in the same way he had.

"They kept me in cryofreeze. That's how it went on for seventy years."

Clara's face softened. "They what?"

"HYDRA kept me frozen away until they needed me. Sometimes I was left there for years. While I was out on a new mission the world had changed around me and I didn't even realise it."

"And you just killed for them? Why are they after you? What changed?"

Bucky hesitated. The next part made him sick to the stomach and spiteful at the same time; it was how they took away who he was and left him as some compliant killing machine, effectively ripping his morality and identity away from him and turning him into 'the asset' who followed orders without hesitation. He placed the blame on himself rather than HYDRA, where the blame should have belonged.

"They-" he stopped again to stop the stupid tears that shouldn't have been there. Trying to explain what had happened to him just brought up memories upon memories. Ones of killing, of fighting Steve, of agonising pain as HYDRA took his memories in that chair. Admitting to all of it happening felt like taking away a barrier that protected him from the memories. If he just pretended HYDRA's brainwashing never happened, it didn't affect him.

But Bucky knew that he had to tell Clara. "They'd tell me to sit in this chair, and I'd comply with them because I didn't know not to. I was just expected to sit in the chair and I'd do it. I'd let them push me back, I screamed as the electricity coursed through my body. And when it was all over, I couldn't remember a single thing before it. I couldn't even remember how I'd gotten in that chair. They put these..." Bucky fished for the right words, "triggers in my mind. When they'd say those words, I didn't protest, I'd just do what they wanted."

He stopped and gathered the strength to finally look Clara in the eyes again. She didn't say anything, but her expression was enough. Her eyes were shimmering and she blinked rapidly. Bucky had expected fear or disgust from her. He'd done terrible things without protest, why was she not backing away in terror?

"And you know who you are know," Clara stated. It wasn't a question; she'd come to the conclusion herself.

"Steve kept insisting that I knew him, which threw me for a loop. So I ran away from it all. I ran from HYDRA, I ran from SHIELD, and I ran from Steve. I spent weeks wandering around in America trying to understand who I wasーI don't think I even believed I was someone else for a long time. Not until I saw a photo of my face in a museum."

"But why did you choose here?"

"I wanted to get away from the world, and Romania is quiet enough. Not like some places, where I thought every second person knew who I was."

A long silence drifted on between the two of them, and Bucky almost felt dizzy from the amount of memories he'd recounted in such a short time. And he still didn't know why Clara wasn't afraid.

"Clara, why are you still here?" He asked softly, like speaking too loud would scare her away.

"What do you mean?"

Bucky sighed. "You know what I've done, so why aren't you afraid?"

"Because I understand. Well, not the whole brainwashing thing, but I understand what it's like to be blamed for something you didn't do."

"I killed people," he stated plainly.

"It doesn't sound like you did it willingly from what you've told me, so I don't care. You saved me from HYDRA and continued to take care of me, so I think that's proof enough you're not some monster," Clara concurred, stepping closer. "At one point, I was afraid of you. Not because of the person you were around me but because of what Anton had said. He asked me about the Winter Soldier so I looked it upーfor a little while I didn't know what to think. Now I know."

Bucky turned around again, putting his hands on the counter and looking down, said: "What did you mean by understand?"

* * *

Clara hadn't expected the night to go as it did. The plan was to force James into a confession, not to outright state she knew, but it was enough. He'd admitted everything to her, and she believed it all. In fact, it made a lot of sense as to why he was always reading the encyclopaedia and writing things down. It also explained why he was living in their shitty apartment building.

However, what Clara really hadn't planned for was James asking her about her pastーit wasn't like she was expecting to relate to him. She said that she understood, and that was a reference to her past that she didn't want to divulge. Yet, James had confessed to one of the most fucked up stories Clara had ever heard. He was kept in sleep for _years_ at a time. And from her understanding, they took away who he was. They took away that loyal best friend of Captain America and turned James on his home country.

Clara felt a renewed surge of hate for HYDRA suddenly.

"You know how I said I was from Hungary?" She questioned.

"Yeah."

"I didn't leave the country by choice. My real name isn't even Claraーthough I really do like the name. My name is actually Andris," she then laughed. "I guess my parents thought it would be funny to give me a guy's name."

James was still avoiding looking at her, which she let slide. He'd just told her more than he probably cared to admit.

"Why'd you leave?"

"I'm wanted for murder," she stated bluntly. "I didn't actually kill anyone, but everyone back home thinks that I did and I still don't know how they'd believe that lie. I'm pretty sure that I didn't give off murderous vibes, but I was framed pretty well. I have to hand it to the guys that did it, they did a fantastic job at making me look like an all-out psychopath."

"So you just got out before anyone came after you? I don't know if I could've gotten out of that, and HYDRA has taught me a lot."

Clara sighed. "I was extremely lucky that my friend worked on the border. Nobody can track me to here. I just miss my family."

"I do too," James agreed.

Clara grew regretful. She just realised that all of his family members were most likely dead, and they died thinking that he'd been KIA.

"So what do I call you now?" Clara finally asked.

James met her eyes again. "I used to have everyone call me Bucky, but I think that James is starting to grow on me."

"James it is then," Clara affirmed. "Can we go sit on the balcony? I think it was pretty nice out today."

Clara didn't need help walking anymore, but she was still slightly shaky. James made sure to watch and keep her stable if she needed assistance.

Once they were outside, they were hit with a somewhat cool breeze but overall it was quite nice for the time of year. The sun was close to setting so it cast long, enunciated shadows. There were no chairs on Clara's balcony, so she chose to sit on the floor rather than stand.

It was pleasant to have a break in which to think over James' story. She couldn't believe parts of what HYDRA did to him, it made her consider how people could be so cruel. She had learned long ago that trying to find the answer to that question could drive a person insane. Because sometimes there was no answer for cruelty, and people committed terrible acts because they could. And yet, she still found herself asking the question why.

At least he didn't ask too much about her past yet because she wasn't prepared on what to say. There was more to her story than she let on, but he knew enough for now.

James sat down beside herーor maybe she should be calling him Bucky at this point. He was wearing a zip-up hoodie and his one hand was still gloved.

"Can I see the hand?" Clara suddenly asked.

He looked momentarily surprised before he took the glove off and revealed a shiny hand that very much resembled a human one, down to every detail. She could only imagine the amount of work put into it as it looked like a very detailed piece of machinery. There were intricate pieces of metal where joints would be in a human hand.

Clara gently took the metal hand in hers to inspect it further and James let her. She was amazed at it, to say at the least.

"I never expected it to be so detailed," Clara admitted. No wonder he could be so gentle when it came to things like cleaning her shoulder.

"I can't feel things with it the same way I can with my hand, but it's better than nothing. I think that HYDRA designed it to only be a weapon and nothing elseーI can't feel the texture of objects with it or feel temperature. Only the weight of things," James said, watching Clara inspect it.

She let his hand go and looked up to the sky where the sun was setting. "The things they did to you... I can't believe anyone is capable of that. Is that what causes insomnia?"

He shook his head. "No. It's remembering what I did while I worked for them. Memories of the people I've killed come back too, not just the ones before then."

"James, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to make you tell me all of that, I was just scared because I didn't know who you were."

"It's fine. I think that it's better now that you know, I don't have to hide everything. I just didn't expect all of this to happen when I first met you."

"That was only two weeks ago yet it feels like so much time has passed," Clara laughed. "This has been quite the week."

James didn't say anything, he only nodded.

"Do you want to be called Bucky now?" Clara questioned again.

"Whatever you want to call me," he replied nonchalantly.

"No, I'm asking you to choose. You have a lot of choices now, and I want you to choose this."

He hesitated as though it was a heavy decision that would change his life. "Call me Bucky then. Everyone called me that, so I think that you should too."

"Okay, Bucky. So what do you say we go boxing now that I know your secret? Once my shoulder is healed of course, which feels like it's taking forever. But I think that it'd be beneficial for us both so if HYDRA comes looking for me again we don't have a repeat."

"Yeah, that would be good. Speaking of your shoulder, I need to check it again," he told her and stood up. "Go take your shirt off and I'll get the peroxide."

Again, Clara struggled to take her shirt off. But this time, she didn't need Bucky's assistance to get it all the way off, even if it still hurt to move her shoulder in a certain way. Bucky walked back into her apartment with the disinfectants on hand and immediately went to clean her shoulder.

"Does it hurt as much when I clean it now?"

"No," Clara answered as he calmly swept away at the wound. "I think that it'll be fine in a week or so."

"Then I think that I've finished for the night," he said, putting the peroxide down. "Now I have one question."

"Go ahead," Clara replied.

"Do I keep calling you Clara?"

"Yeah, I think I like it much better than Andris," she beamed. Clara was glad Bucky had told her everything, and now she recognised he needed time for himself after all he'd admitted to.

"Goodnight Bucky. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Bucky nodded and put his glove back over his metal hand. "Yeah, I'll see you." He said regretfully, almost as if he didn't want to leave.

* * *

 _Bucharest, that same day, nearby:_

A small boyーonly about twelve years oldーsent a message to his superiors regarding the Winter Soldier. The soldier's days being out of their hands was numbered.

* * *

 _AN: I don't know if I like how this chapter turned out, but I hope you guys enjoyed it! I didn't want to leave you all on a cliffhanger for very long and wrote this as fast as I could while still making it quality._

 _Thanks to **Civic1980, inperfection, Ec1aire, artemis7448, Marylikesroses** and **Trevie** for reviewing. Each and every one of your reviews made me incredibly happy! :)_

 _There won't be a new chapter until at least Wednesday next week because I have finals coming up right away._


	8. Chapter 8

_"That's the thing about being a victim; you start to think it'll happen to you on a regular basis. It's living with the reality of your own vulnerability, and it sucks."_

― Dennis Lehane, A Drink Before the War

* * *

 _Bucharest, two weeks later:_

Yet again, Bucky found himself waking up from another violent nightmare. However, this nightmare had been worse than the others.

He remembered never understanding how nightmares held so much power over people. They were always the subjects of bearing people's worst fears to life. But he always thought that a nightmare could never hold far-reaching effects; that he could just get over it the same moment he realised what it was: not real. That was until his own mind attacked himself, dragging out what he despised most about himself and then constantly haunting his own mind with it. Nightmares were powerful things that were not to be underestimated.

The nightmare in question wasn't the regular one of someone he killed or the procedures HYDRA would perform on him. No, this nightmare was very specific. It was vivid down to the last detail and highly disturbingーhe'd had to watch himself strangle the life out of Clara as if he hadn't had enough fears already. Hurting Clara was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, right next to falling back into HYDRA's control.

Bucky finally sat up in his bed and noticed how sweaty he wasーa testament to how disturbing the nightmare had been. He frowned in distaste, deciding it would be best to take a shower before anything else. Besides, he wouldn't be jogging with Clara so at least showering would give him something to do rather than be tormented by his own mind.

For the past two weeks, he'd been keeping Clara occupied and she'd been doing the same for him. They'd talk about a range of subjects such as family all the way to silly topics like favourite colours. When Clara's arm had started to show a lot of improvement, she became less dependent on him. Just the other day she'd been making her own meals no problem and moving her arm with some freedom. Soon, she wouldn't need her stitches anymore.

Though, perhaps the oddest part of the past two weeks would be when she addressed him as Bucky. He wasn't used to being called that name; not for a long time, at least. It would bring him back to the days when he was always at Steve's side and it seemed like everything would work out. It was nice to be reminded he wasn't just a killing machine and had some control over his life again.

And Clara had been back to her regular self again. She even had more energy than normal, considering she was all pent-up in her cramped apartment with nothing for entertainment but her phone, books, and herself. Every day she'd ask when she'd be allowed to run again, to which he never had the answer because he wasn't a doctor.

Bucky took a quick shower before getting ready to go to work at the site. At least his nightmare had good timing and he woke up at a regular time rather than five in the morning.

A round of knocks sounded at his door and Bucky could immediately tell who it was from the light rapping on the door. He threw on a long-sleeved shirtーwhich was pretty much the only type of shirt he ownedーand opened the door for Clara.

Clara beamed at him in greeting. "I actually got up early today."

"I can see that," he commented, rubbing one of his eyes in tiredness.

"What do you say about going to the mall today? My arm's better now, and I need to buy some more clothes considering one of my favourite outfits has bloodstains all over it."

"It's a tragedy," he remarked while opening the door to let her in. Clara walked inside and made herself at home at the table.

"So that's a no?" She asked.

For a moment he'd thought that she was upset and flashed back to his nightmare before forcing himself to stay in the present. He then realised she had that stupid grin that was always present when she was messing with him.

"I never said anything relating to the word no," he said. "I need to restock my health-kit anyways, considering half the supplies are gone."

"Sorry," Clara laughed, not seeming apologetic at all. "On the bright side, I'll finally get to go outside again."

"We can't be out for long. We don't know if HYDRA is still around or not. So far, I haven't seen them but we don't know if they're still around or not. I know how HYDRA works, and they'll do anything to achieve their goal."

The smile fell from Clara's face and she nodded with reluctance. He couldn't imagine how it felt to be dragged into the whole HYDRA ordealーin fact, she was doing remarkably well for someone who'd been shot. But then again, from what she'd told him, her life before hadn't exactly seemed like rainbows and butterflies.

"It's my fault this all happened to you, if-"

Clara cut him off. "No. Before you go all sad-mode, place the blame where it belongs. You didn't know HYDRA was here following you or that they'd get interested in me. It's not your fault at all."

"But I knew that if I started talking to you, I'd be placing you in danger."

"Well, it's not exactly like I'm a whole lot better to be around. If anyone ever found me, there'd be extensive searches," she countered.

Bucky conceded his point. He didn't wholly agree with her, but it was at least comforting to know that she didn't blame him in any way, even if he still blamed himself for the whole mess. Maybe the nightmare was part of the reason he felt so guilty, although he was sure that he'd never tell Clara about it. It scared him just to think about itーshe didn't need the extra burden.

Clara then changed the subject. "So what time do you want to go out shopping at? Does twelve work?"

"I work today, remember?"

"Oh right," Clara laughed. "Okay, how about when you're done?"

"At five?" Bucky replied.

"Yeah, and we can go out for supper too because I'm getting pretty tired of microwaveable noodles."

"We can't be out for too long, remember?" He admonished.

Clara sighed, looking rather defeated. Bucky felt sorry that her life was restricted to staying hidden as much as possible, but it wouldn't be like that forever. Not until he figured out if he'd already taken out the only HYDRA agents who knew about Clara and him or not.

"Okay, but I have to buy some more quality food then because the shit I have just isn't cutting it."

"That works," Bucky said.

And so Clara went back to her apartment and Bucky did the same as always before leaving his place; he made sure to check all the escape supplies were in the right places and that his arm remained completely hidden. He dreaded the time summer would come around, as wearing a long sleeve shirt and gloves would be not only odd but incredibly hot.

Either way, he went to his shady job, wanting the day to be over so he could escape back to Clara. When he worked at the construction site, he mostly stayed quiet unless he was addressed by someone else first. Most of the time, the task at hand kept him focused and in the moment, but when it didn't, it felt like the hours were an eternity and it was his own personal hell. It wasn't like he was unused to working difficult or boring jobs, it was more the fact that now he had his mind to deal with-that was definitely something he had no problem with in the 1940's.

Sometimes, he really wished Steve was there. Yet, he knew Steve couldn't be. It would be nice to have someone who also remembered the past as Bucky did. At least Clara understood him in the regard that they were both on the run from the authorities, and now HYDRA apparently.

* * *

Clara was ecstatic that Bucky had agreed to go out shopping, even if it meant that they'd be hiding from HYDRA while they were out. She missed leaving her apartment. She certainly wasn't used to be cooped up for days upon days with little to no physical activity. It was like her limbs were turning to jelly while they ached; practically begging her to go out running or do anything that would give her a bit of a workout.

Even her mind was starting to become troubling. As much as she wished she didn't, Clara kept thinking of home and how she ended up in her situation. She knew it was partially her fault and that she had it coming with what she had been doing... But that didn't mean she liked being away from her family for so long. The only good part to come from her situation as a run away would be Bucky. At least he was a constant.

During the day, while Clara waited for Bucky to come home, she spent her time reading or browsing the Internet. What else could she do? She knew she shouldn't go outside and it wasn't like she could start up a hobby. She even cleaned her apartment and did her laundry.

Eventually, Clara began to think of home _again_. Her eyes shifted to the letter sitting on her side table, causing her to sigh. She desperately wanted to send it to her brother back in Hungary, yet she knew she couldn't. She thought that maybe writing the letter would help her cope with her reality, but to no avail. It only tempted her every time she looked at it.

Instead, Clara grew upset and crumpled up the letter and threw it on the ground. It landed softly and she felt the sharp sting of regret. It had taken her a while to draw the flowers on the letter, but she couldn't take seeing when she laid down for bed every night.

She blinked the tears away, then decided sleeping would be a better alternative to dealing with her issue. She hated pitying herself, yet it was a familiar pattern she kept falling into. Perhaps the day she could return home would be the day the pitying would stop for good.

Clara laid back on her bed and shut her eyes, forgetting what she had asked Bucky about earlier that day.

* * *

Bucky was glad to be back where he didn't have to hide or be hyper-sensitive of his surroundings. Not to say he didn't pay attention while he was home, but he could at least relax a bit. He'd never let his full guard down. Especially now that he knew HYDRA was out there somewhere, still lurking around.

All day he'd been trying to keep his nightmare out his mind, but that hadn't been going well for him. He had trouble when it came to nightmares like such.

He was used to the ones where he'd remember some assassination from his past. Though, those ones were equally terrible. He felt disconnected from them, however. It was like he was in some other persons' body, and he wasn't himself during it.

HYDRA had really messed him up, and he knew it. He'd never be the same man Steve thought him to be, but he also would never be the Winter Soldier again.

But Bucky also knew it was similar to people coming back from the war. He'd seen some of the people who came back changed. The were the same person essentially, however, they had terrible memories that would cause them to be a bit different from who they were originally. Maybe that was his situation, in a way.

Bucky snapped out of his thoughts, remembering Clara was probably waiting for him so they could go shopping.

He stepped out of his apartment and shut the door behind him. He knocked on Clara's then waited for a response.

After a little while, Clara didn't respond so Bucky knocked louder. There was still no response. Bucky felt panic rise up in him and tried to control it; what if HYDRA had taken Clara while he'd been away? What if he couldn't find her?

He forced the panicked thoughts out of his mind and instead decided he'd pick her lock. Busting the door down was out of the question, as it would be way too loud. Bucky went back to his placed and acquired the bobby pins he'd twisted and broken in order to unlock her door. He kept aware of any noise of approaching people and began to work on the door.

With some work, the lock clicked, signalling the door could be opened.

Inside, Clara's apartment was oddly clean and dark. There were no signs of a scuffle. Investigating further, he discovered Clara sleeping on her bed. At first, he hadn't seen her, and had just assumed her blankets were all pushed together, but then he saw her shift. Was she really that tired from getting up earlier? He almost laughed because he'd been worried for nothing. There she was, sleeping. And he'd thought that she had been kidnapped. It wasn't unreasonable, considering what had happened with HYDRA, but he felt ridiculous all the same.

Perhaps he should wake Clara up then. He didn't know how long she had been sleeping for but figured it was her choice to wake up earlier and it was also her who wanted to go shopping.

He really didn't want to wake her up; her face was relaxed and as unworried as he'd ever seen it. She looked completely at peace. He shook her by the arm gently and said her name softly.

Clara slowly awoke from her sleep and blinked at him.

"James?" She'd asked. Apparently, she'd fallen back into the habit of referring to him as that name, as opposed to Bucky. Truthfully, he didn't mind what he was called by her.

"We're supposed to go out shopping remember?" He reminded her, a faint smile present on his face.

Clara's eyes widened and she sat bolt upright. "Oh god, I can't believe I forgot that! I'm so sorry! Wait a minuteーhow the hell did you get in here?"

"I thought HYDRA took you," he admitted, trying to not feel embarrassed. Again, he reassured himself that it was totally plausible.

"Aww, you were worried for me," Clara teased. "Don't worry, HYDRA won't get me a second time."

Bucky sure hoped she was right.

When Bucky didn't reply, Clara added on, "I'll get ready now. Just meet me outside. And seriously, thank you for your worry."

* * *

 _Then, Bucharest, later that day:_

They arrived at an outlet mall that was just a lot of small shops bunched together to make a mall of sorts. It was a bit disjointed, but the place made up for it in the character of the architecture. It was pretty chilly outside as well, but Bucky was rather thankful for the weather. Clara didn't seem to mind either, considering she was bundled up in two jackets and chatting amicably.

"Where do you want to go first?" Clara asked excitedly. "I heard there are some new stores here, I just hope they aren't expensive. Maybe the general store first for medical stuff."

"The general store sounds good."

Clara and Bucky searched around the mall for a map and couldn't find one, so they simply explored the place. They were taking longer than Bucky would like, but he supposed it was okay as the mall seemed pretty emptyーit would be easy to see if people were watching them. Clara finally a general store from them and they bought the supplies.

"Finally, I can find something nice to wear," she said happily. Her head was spinning in a million directions and quite frankly, Bucky was beginning to feel disoriented. Society was so different from his time, where there were only general stores and shops personally owned by shop-keepers. Occasionally there had been company stores, but not on the scale there was in this century.

"How do you even know where to shop?" He asked, rather confused at all the choices.

"I don't know. I just grew up and found the places I like," Clara shrugged.

While they were on their way to a store Clara wanted to visit, she stopped them at a booth. Bucky looked at her in confusion for a moment only to see what she was so fixated on.

"No, we're not doing that. We don't have time."

"Oh come on, we're perfectly fine here. I don't care if some stupid HYDRA agents are around, I want to live a little. At least let me have this, I've been stuck inside for weeks," Clara pleaded, looking genuinely sad.

"Those 'stupid' HYDRA agents shot you in the shoulder. If it wasn't for me, you'd be dead," Bucky warned her.

Instead of backing away, like Bucky thought she would, Clara started laughing. She really didn't seem to fear, did she?

"It's a good thing I have you with me then," she winked.

Bucky swore that she was the most stubborn person he'd ever met, and that was saying alot considering Steve was his friend; Steve wouldn't budge an inch if he thought he was doing the right thing.

"Please, just this one time. Then we can hurry."

Reluctantly, Bucky agreed.

Clara stepped inside first and Bucky followed. He sat down beside her and she started pressing some buttons and inserted some money. "Okay first we smile for the photo, and then we make a dumb face."

"Why would we make a dumb face for a photo?" Bucky questioned. Sometimes he really didn't understand the modern world. So much had changed, yet in some ways, it was still similar to the world he'd grown up in. People had weird interests, but they were still people. Some were still kind while others were selfishーnobody changed in that regard.

"I don't know," Clara paused. "As a joke I guess."

She pressed a button and a screen showed a reflection of them as well as a countdown.

Clara looked in surprise at the screen. "When did I mess up my lipstick?" She frantically wiped around her mouth and Bucky looked at her motions and started to laugh at her. The flash went off and both of them jumped in surprise.

"Wait, smile for the next one!" Clara said.

For the next photo they smiled and then the photos shot out of the slot. Clara picked it up and stared at the photo for a moment before starting to laugh almost hysterically. Bucky peered at the photo to see Clara with a worried expression while he was looking at her with a large smile on his face, almost as if he was about to start laughing.

Bucky uplifted by the photo. So maybe it was okay if they took a bit of time for themselves, but not too long or else they'd be caught off guard the next time something bad happened to them. But at least keeping Clara around helped him feel better. She was welcome company compared to what he was used to doing on his own.

Bucky then realised how much his own life had changed in the three weeks he'd known Clara. He no longer felt the strenuous effort to keep his mind intact and the aching feeling of loneliness he hadn't even realised was there had gone away. He'd even smiled more in the past few weeks than he had in past months combined. Then he considered not having to live in fear and what that felt like.

So they concluded their trip with Clara being picky about clothes. Not because of the look, but because of the price. They only had so much money, after all.

* * *

On the way home, Bucky and Clara passed the kid that he'd helped the first day he met Clara. They smiled in passing, and the kid seemed genuinely thankful. Maybe he shouldn't be classified as a 'kid,' as he looked like he was verging on teen-hood. But he seemed young enough.

After Clara kept gushing about her clothes, few minutes had passed and they forgot about the moment.

* * *

 _AN: I'm so sorry this was later than I said, life got in the way! Anyways, I'm super happy to hear you guys are enjoying my story! One day, my friends were discussing symbolism in my story and it was the funniest thing. It was like I was in English class, only I'm the author._

 _Hope you all know what the photograph means. Here's a hint if you don't, or have forgotten: first chapter. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_

 _Lots of angst and some romance to come now lol. This chapter was more setting stage for the rest of the story and was mostly happy. Get ready to cry, because HYDRA isn't just going to go away (sadly). "Cut off one head, and another takes its place."_

 _A huge thank you to **artemis7448,** **NoVancancyMind, .2016, MaryLikesRoses,**_ _**inperfection** and **mrs-landers** for reviewing! I swear every time I get a notification for my email, I get all excited because I hope it's a review. They honestly make my day. :)_


	9. Chapter 9

"The fibers of all things have their tension and are strained like the strings of an instrument."

\- Henry David Thoreau

* * *

 _Then, Bucharest, five days later:_

Bucky wasn't regularly the type of person to give into others. He was friends with Steve, one of the most stubborn people he knew, but Clara almost seemed worse. If she wanted to do something, she could not be deterred; she was persistent that way. Bucky swore that some day it would be the death of her. Though, he'd make sure that day would never come. She'd wanted to leave the house and was adamant about it not being dangerous, but Bucky thought otherwise, so he went with her. It wasn't like her could force her to stay inside.

And that was how he ended up across from her at the gym. She seemed absolutely ecstatic to be outside again, now that her shoulder was all healed up. In fact, she was smiling and moving about freely, as if nothing in the world could harm her.

"So how do you feel about boxing?" Clara grinned.

Bucky smirked back at her. "Since I agreed to come here with you, we're going to do something else." Something that would actually be beneficial to her since she was so insistent about being outside.

"And what would that be?"

"I'm going to teach you self-defense."

Clara didn't seem too disappointed or questioning, so he went ahead.

"I learned everything from HYDRA, and I've never had to face someone who has no idea how to fight, so this might take a while to teach. If you want to be outside all the time, then we have to be careful. I know HYDRA- better than most-and they don't give up on their enemies easily."

Clara's happy attitude left her, and Bucky felt sorry for being the reason why. He knew it was for the better, however.

"Then go ahead, start teaching," Clara said.

"You know how to punch, right?"

Clara almost looked offended. "Of course I do," she moved her finger inwards and put her thumb overtop. "You keep your wrist straight and use your body, I already know this."

"Blocking too?" He asked.

Clara nodded.

"You which weak spots to hit?"

"Pretty much anywhere on the face, the knees, and so on."

So Clara at least knew the basics. That would make teaching her somewhat easier. Training the other super soldiers all those years ago (although it seemed like little time had passed) was intense, and it did nothing to help him teach others. Fighting against others who knew how to defend themselves and weren't breakable was one thing, but Clara possessed a small figure and didn't know how to fight properly.

"We're going to have to do this more than once for you to actually start learning," he started. "I'll go through the positions with you first."

Clara nodded. She looked rather eager to start, once she had gotten over the serious tone Bucky had set.

He made sure that she had the proper stances and punches were done properly, despite her insistence that she could. To his approval, he found that she hadn't just been saying she knew how.

Upon his look of pride, Clara mock-glared at him. "I don't instruct boxing classes for nothing, you know. I get paid because I can teach."

"I had to make sure."

"Is there ever a time when you're not paranoid?" She questioned. The look of annoyance on her face faded away as soon as she had said that. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I'm just a bit sick of people underestimating me."

"People used to underestimate Steve all the time. In fact, I think he was shorter than you are," Bucky laughed. "The point is, people were always caught off guard by how fierce he could be, and sometimes that was advantageous. The same could work for you too, you know. I know he hated being thought of that way, but it's something you can use. If you ever are confronted by HYDRA again, they'll be surprised."

Clara simply stared at him for a moment before smiling. "I swear that's the most you've ever said to me at a time. But thank you for that."

Was that really the most he'd spoken at a time? Probably not, but he supposed Clara was right to feel that way. He didn't speak too much anymore, not since he'd been in HYDRA's hands. Clara had actually been getting him to return to his talkative self. He smiled despite himself.

"So can I teach you without protests now?" He teased.

Clara relented. "Go ahead."

They continued on at a slow pace, as a person who was first learning had to go at. Bucky was actually impressed by the rate she picked up on some techniques, and her form was steady in everything she did. She'd present a real challenge someone who was untrained.

At some point, while they had been effortlessly shifting around each other, Clara fell to the ground bringing him down with her. She wasn't a clumsy person, so it took them both by surprise once they were on the mats and Clara gasped in pain.

He'd landed partially on top of her and could feel her breathing heavily. Clara looked into his eyes briefly before shifting underneath him. Bucky quickly got up afterwards.

"God, my arm hurts again. Sometimes I forget you're a super soldier," Clara groaned.

He laughed quietly, trying to forget the feeling that rushed through him when he met her eyes. He didn't know what he felt for Clara, they were close, that was for sure. But there was something else between them that only popped up rarely. He'd felt the same way when he re-bandaged her arm for the first time.

"Should we finish up then?" He asked, attempting to keep everything from his mind.

"Sure," Clara said, rolling her shoulder. "I was starting to get tired anyways."

* * *

The next few days rolled on without out incident. Clara often kept up her training with Bucky as best she could, though some days they felt too tired. It was nice that she was finally able to leave her apartment, however. It was like a breath of fresh air after being confined for so longーespecially now that her arm was fully functional again.

Sure, there was still the paranoia in the back of her head concerning HYDRA, but she ignored it to the best of her ability. One didn't get shot in the arm and have an easy time recovering from the mental trauma, after all.

The only part of the days passed worth mentioning would be Bucky's strange behaviour. It was difficult to pick up, at first, but Clara noticed him growing slightly distant. It was done subtly, of course, by him talking as little as possibleーwhich wasn't exactly too different from his usual self, even if he had been talkative more recentlyーyet, that wasn't the only way he'd been behaving strangely.

If Clara got too close to him, he'd try and maintain distance, or even flinch. He'd never done that before. It was driving Clara crazy because she didn't know why he was being that way. She chalked it up to some of the shit he'd gone throughーshe was well aware he had not led an easy life in recent years.

But Clara, being headstrong, decided that she was going to confront him about it. It was better than leaving him to deal with whatever it was alone.

It was still morning, so Clara figured that Bucky would be awakeーhe was always awake early in the morning. Clara figured that they needed to go jogging again to help him cope with the stress and lack of sleep. So she went to knock on his door still dressed in her sleepwearーan oversized shirt and shorts. She didn't particularly care what he thought of her appearance, as he'd already seen her in pretty bad conditions.

At first, only silence met Clara's knocks. She didn't even hear any noise from within the apartment. She patiently waited, as she didn't want to be a nuisance, then knocked again. Maybe he was sleeping after all. Yet, didn't he have his job to go to?

Clara turned away and headed back to her place before she heard the clicking of the door behind her.

In the open doorway was Bucky looking as though he hadn't slept in days. There were shadows under his eyes, his hair was unkempt and he was oddly pale. He didn't look the same person who had been instructing her at the gym just a few days ago.

He looked haunted.

Clara didn't say anything, momentarily leaving silence between the two of them.

"Are you okay, Bucky?" She broke the tension.

He shook his head no, surprising Clara. Whatever she had been expecting from him, it hadn't been a clear and honest answer.

Bucky waved her inside, and she couldn't help the strange pang she felt when she noticed how shaky his hand was. What could have possibly happened in just a few days to cause such a drastic change in his appearance and health? Clara didn't think that she'd ever seen him in such horrible shape. She entered his apartment to find that it was messy. Normally, it was kept to a perfectly clean state, but it was never messy.

"Bucky, what's going on?" Clara questioned him quietly, as though speaking too loud would scare him off. She knew Bucky was strong, there was no denying that, yet his appearance worried herーlike speaking too loud would worsen his state.

"I haven't been sleeping," Bucky stated with a tiredness that Clara had never seen before. He sat down at the makeshift table and Clara sat across from him.

"Have you at least slept-"

"At all," Bucky clarified.

Clara was stunned silent for a moment. Her mind began to pull at all the reasons for why he hadn't been sleepingーthe whole insomnia thing had to be a lie, right? She knew he'd been through a lot of shit with HYDRA and the war, could that be the cause? No, that didn't make a whole lot of sense either, as he seemed to be doing mostly fine up until current times. It had to be nightmares then.

"Then what's keeping you up?" Clara asked.

"I..." Bucky hesitated. "You wouldn't want to know. I've been having nightmares, and I do terrible things in them. The same sort of shit HYDRA made me do, only I was in full control and... It's always so bloody."

Clara felt terrible for making him repeat the nightmares. _It's always better to talk about the bad rather than keep it in_ , she reminded herself in her head.

"Bucky, you should really tell me some of them. I know it's not..." Clara fished for the proper word, "it's not pleasant to talk about, but you'll feel better for saying it."

"I don't know if I can," Bucky admitted. "They're about you."

Clara knew her eyes widened, she couldn't help it. But she could keep in the gasp that wanted to come out at the revelation. Forcing all other thoughts out of her head, she steeled her gaze, looking him directly in the eyes. "Tell me regardless."

Bucky looked hesitant. "In the nightmares, we're always doing something like talking before everything goes wrong," Bucky took his eyes off Clara and instead looked at his hands like they suddenly became interesting. "Next I know, I don't know who I am anymore and I- I kill you. With my hands, a knife, anything. You're always dead because of me and I don't know how to stop the nightmares. I can't sleep all night because I think that if I fall asleep, I'll end up having another nightmare about killing you again. If I do manage to sleep, I end up waking up again because of nightmares. I thought that if I avoided you they'd stop. Nothing's changed."

Clara stood still, not quite knowing how to reply. She was no doctor, she didn't know how to help him deal with the nightmares. If she were to be honest, her being murdered in his nightmares was disturbing, but that wouldn't stop her. She was nothing if not determined to help him. Despite everything that had occurred lately, he was one of the only good parts of her life currently. She was completely misplaced, but Bucky helped her feel like she at least belonged somewhere nowーand she understood what it was like to be on the run even if she didn't feel like she was in danger all the time.

"I'm sorry," Clara said.

He looked back up. "What? Why would you be sorry."

"I don't know how to help, and I want to be able to so much. God, I feel useless," and that was the real honest truth. As much as Clara liked to feel competent, she was clueless in ways to help.

"I didn't let you come in here so you could help. I just wanted to tell you what was going on," Bucky stated. "I don't think I can keep going on like this anymore, I tried to keep this all away from you, I've already dragged you into enough. You don't need any more problems."

"No, I want to help you," then Clara's eyes uncharacteristically teared up. "I was so alone here for a long time. I had no idea how difficult it would be to live on my own in a foreign country hiding the fact that I was wanted. I'm sure you've had to do the same... Make-up names, back stories and names of the people you know. It's terrible, your entire life becomes a lie. But I don't have to do that with you," Clara elaborated. Tears were rolling down her cheeks but she didn't seem to care. She simply swept them away.

Clara took hold of Bucky's metal hand that was resting on the table. "Don't hide anything from me, and please don't go distant again."

Bucky looked to Clara. "I promise," he said sincerely. "I had no idea about thatーI wanted to make sure you didn't get hurt further, but I guess there's no point in that now."

Clara tearily laughed. "I'm not going to let the next time."

"You sound so much like Steve saying that," A small smile graced Bucky's face.

"Tell me about him. I know about Captain America, but we don't really hear about the man behind him," Clara said. She barely knew anything about him, come to think about it. She had more to worry about than superheroes in the past years.

"Steve used to be..." Bucky drifted off. "Sometimes I have gaps in my memory, but I know Steve was sick as a kidーhe was always on death's door, yet it never deterred him. He was determined to fight bullies and bad guys no matter what the damage to himself. He was a caring friend too, even if I did most of the caring. He was stubborn tooーalways wanted to do things his own way, even if he could've had help."

"Steve sounds like a great person," Clara smiled, her face then grew serious. "Bucky, I have a question. How- how are you here now? I mean, I saw what went down in Washington D.C. How did you come to be here?"

"Steve kept insisting I was someone else. I remember being so confusedーhe wouldn't kill me and kept calling me Bucky. So I spared him and left to find out more about myself. I could have killed him."

Clara felt terrible for asking but said nothing. She did know a way to say, what could you say to such a thing? Clara faintly wondered what time it was, but realized she didn't care if she was a bit late to work. It was all worth it for Buckyーbesides, it wouldn't matter if she was a few minutes late.

"What do you say we meet up after work and train some more? I think it might help."

Bucky nodded. "Sounds good."

Clara took that as a signal to leave and got up.

"Wait, Clara, thank you for this. I don't know what would've happened if you didn't stop me from being isolated."

"Don't thank me, it's just something people should do."

* * *

The rest of the day passed relatively quickly, and Bucky couldn't help feeling that was partly due to Clara. She was like a bright light in all of the shit they had surrounding themーlike a ray of hope that he didn't have to live terribly because of the lives he'd taken. They haunted him from beyond their graves, which was punishment enough.

After work, Bucky had met up with Clara and they'd trained. This time, it had gone without incident and Clara seemed to be picking up on everything he taught her relatively easily.

Together, they went back to Clara's place because she insisted on cooking her favourite meal; macaroni and cheese.

"Should I put on the radio again?" Clara asked as she was cooking.

"Sure," Bucky answered, sitting down on the couch.

The radio hosts mostly spoke about problems with infrastructure for a bit, something Bucky didn't pay much mind too until he heard the name Romanoff. He remembered her from the incidents in Washingtonーnot particularly well, as his memory had been wipedーhe knew she was a part of the Avengers and Steve's friend. She was a formidable opponent in a fight as well.

"Natasha Romanoff and others were involved with another mission across seas in which they were given no authorization for. The anger towards this group in countries has grown violentーSokovia is still in pieces and its citizens still full of grief and anger. There's even anger in parts of America which leaves us to ask, is anyone even in control of the Avengers? People want justice, and I think Paul said earlier was rightーif there isn't some justice served eventually if nobody answers for these crimesーthis may end in disaster."

Clara stopped stirring the pot for a moment. "Well, that was certainly positive."

"I'm part at fault for this," Bucky said horrified.

"No, you aren't, HYDRA is. None of you are at fault for thisーour lives have been saved from certain doom because of them multiple times. I don't understand how some people can't see that."

"Doesn't change that I was the one that did it," Bucky spoke quietly. "I just hope Steve doesn't get mixed up in this."

"I'm sure he won't. The world needs him."

But Bucky wasn't too sureーthe world they lived in was an unforgiving one.

* * *

 _AN: So funny story, I accidentally deleted half of this draft and had to retype it. But that's only part of the reason this was so late. I had family in town and graduated, then I accidentally became really obsessed with Game of Thrones and I can't stop watching it._

 _Anyways, I've never left a story unfinished and I'm not about to start. Next update should be soon now that I'm back._


	10. Chapter 10

_An: this is going to be a shorter chapter, but I think that it makes up for it in content. And it's a pretty light-hearted chapter compared to most chapters. (Aside from the first bit)._

" _Love is not patronizing and charity isn't about pity, it is about love. Charity and love are the same - with charity you give love, so don't just give money but reach out your hand instead."_

* * *

The terrible news Bucky had heard earlier didn't help him to fall asleep, not in the least bit. He thought that perhaps Clara's discussion with would at least make going to sleep a less harrowing ordeal, but apparently not. He tossed and turned, snapping awake once he was almost resting. It was almost as if his body didn't want him to sleepーwhich was entirely counter-productive to himself. The human mind was certainly a weird thing.

Bucky threw his sheets off of himself, finally accepting he wouldn't be getting any sleep for a while. Instead, he went back to the mindless task of reading through the encyclopedia; maybe it would bore him to sleep if he read enough; the parts about which scientist discovered what was definitely a dull read.

After at least an hour of thatーthough probably less considering how much it dragged onーBucky lied down again, hoping that perhaps this attempt would earn him some well-deserved rest. And it didーof course, the rest didn't come without a negative. He woke up from a nightmare only two hours later and an hour left before he'd have to get up.

He didn't even want to think about the nightmare. He felt sick every time his mind went back to it.

Again, he was stuck with nothing to do and no rest. Bucky found himself wishing he had a phone so he listened to music or the radio rather than reading or writing. It'd also been a while since a memory had come back to him, as his journal remained untouched on top of the refrigerator. Not that he mindedーit was painful to read or even look at the stupid thing.

Bucky gave into reading the encyclopedia rather than dealing with his thoughts.

* * *

Clara felt glad to be resuming her regular schedule now that the HYDRA incident was behind her. She'd even noticed she felt cheerier lately. Her class even commented on how much energy she seemed to have, which only spurred her into a better mood.

On the way back home Clara waved to that kid Bucky had helped. She'd been seeing him a lot lately, and couldn't help but wonder where his parents were. At least the kid was going out a playing soccer a lot, as the ball in his hands suggested. She figured she might look more into who his parents were some day.

Clara was more focused on seeing how Bucky was doing, anyways.

The hope was that Bucky had gotten a goodnight's sleep, hopefully without nightmares and that he was feeling up to getting food somewhere.

First Clara went home and changed out of her sweaty clothes and actually did something with her hair. It wasn't until she noticed she was making sure she looked alright that it hit her. She was caring about her appearance. The last time she cared, she'd still been back home with her family and friends surrounding herーshe'd been happy. Her life had really taken a turn in the past month, in both positive and negative aspects. Getting shot would probably be the only negative (surprisingly).

Once her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, Clara decided she looked well enough and went to stop by Bucky's place. Again, she hoped he had gotten some sleep.

It only took one knock for Bucky to open the door. He didn't look any better than he'd looked the previous day.

"Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go and get something to eat?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Okay, do you have anywhere you want to go?"

"I think the pizza place is a safe bet. And this time, it won't be ruined," Bucky smiled a little.

Clara laughed. "As long as there's no Anton, I'll be happy."

* * *

They arrived at the pizza place slightly cold from walking. It was a cooler day than usual, but it was a welcome change from the regularly mild weather.

"Did your lessons go well today?" Bucky asked Clara as they sat down.

"As well as they normally go, but I was in a good mood. I guess that constitutes as a pretty great day. And did you have a good day?"

Bucky nodded. "It was the same as normal."

Clara and Bucky looked down to their menus to figure out what they wanted. Clara finished quickly and looked to Bucky who seemed to be deeply interesting in what he was ordering judging by his intense expression.

"Do you know what you're going to order?" Clara asked, then waited for Bucky's response. He gave no indication that he heard her. "Bucky?"

Still, he stared at his menu. He'd probably zoned out, as Clara learned.

"Bucky?" she asked, much louder than before.

As though he had been snapped from a trance, Bucky jumped and turned his gaze to her. "Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," He answered. If that wasn't the most blatant lie Clara had ever heard.

Clara wondered about asking him if he got any sleep. It wasn't like the question would hurt him, she realized. He was a strong personーall he'd been through with HYDRA was a testament to that. And since when had she had problems asking direct questions?

"You didn't really get any sleep, did you?" It wasn't a question.

"I managed to get two hours."

"I'd tell you to go see someone about that, but I know you can't. How about we go back to my place and I try and I'll look up some meds for you?"

Bucky frowned. "Clara you don't have to help me all the time."

"No, but I'd like to. Unless you don't want it, of course."

"It's okay, I'm just- not used to it."

Their waiter came and took their orders (they both got pizza again), and Clara got curious again.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead," Bucky said.

"Don't you have anything you like to do in your spare time? Like a hobby? Besides reading the encyclopedia."

Bucky considered her question. "No, not really. I never had time in between taking care of Steve and working multiple jobs. I used to go out dancing a lot, I guess. But that's not something I want to doーnot with everything so different from what I remember."

"Why don't you try doing art or... I don't know. Anything, really. We could even go jogging again."

Bucky smiled. "Art was more of Steve's thing. But going jogging again sounds good to me."

Clara noticed Bucky often smiled when he mentioned Steve. "Don't you want to see Steve again?" she blurted without thinking.

Bucky tensed. "Yes, but I can't. It's not like I can just call him, and the last time I saw him I tried to kill him."

Clara felt stupid for asking and let the subject drop.

After that they didn't talk about any substantial subjects, it was just a bunch of small-talk. And like they agreed on, they went back to Clara's place.

Clara was just happy to see that kid playing outside with the other kids as they walked back.

* * *

The radio was a no-go to Bucky after the bit of news they heard the other day. So instead, he grabbed one of Clara's books and began reading it. They were sitting on the couch together while Clara was reading about medication for his sleeping problem. He was pretty sure it was something that couldn't be fixed with a few pills, but he didn't say anything. Besides, Clara seemed downright determined to help.

What had to be an hour went by and Bucky felt as though he was going to fall asleep. He constantly had to resist the urge to yawn, his eyes kept closing and he was leaning into the side of the couch. He did not want to fall asleep only to be plagued by nightmares again, especially not next to Clara. He had no way of knowing what he would be like when he woke up and he didn't want to be taking any chances.

Yet, he couldn't resist the urge to rest. He felt himself lean further to the side of the couch. Realizing what he was doing, he abruptly sat upright

"Hey it's okay to sleep, I'll watch over you," Clara comforted. She had his metal hand in her hands again and was staring at it with clear interest. It was funny how she seemed to like something about him that he hated.

He looked to her face, and she looked back at him. He wanted to tell her that she couldn'tーthat he could hurt her. But he didn't. He'd been providing for himself for months. He could watch over himself. Yet, was it not better to have someone there to help? It left a warm feeling inside that he couldn't shake. Was this how Steve had felt? NoーSteve always insisted he could care for himself, this was different.

The surge of affection Bucky felt for Clara was damn near uncontrollable.

Clara was looking at him now and her body was turned towards him. "Bucky-"

Without thinking, he pulled Clara close and connected their lips. She seemed surprised at first but gave into the kiss. Bucky couldn't believe this was happening.

Before he knew it, the kiss deepened and Clara was half on top of him. Neither of them wanted to stop.

"Should we take this to the bed?" Clara questioned breathily.

Bucky nodded. It was clear their relationship would be changed permanently now, but he really didn't mind.

* * *

 _An: sorry guys, I couldn't write smut if my life depended on it. It also takes me like two hours to write a thousand words apparently. I kept thinking over every single line multiple times :/_

 _Thanks so much for all the follows and favourites, and thank you to .2016 for reviewing! Lots of action and angst to come now ;)_

 _(So sorry I forgot to thank everyone last chapter)._


	11. Chapter 11

"I don't know what's worse: to not know what you are and be happy, or to become what you've always wanted to be, and feel alone."

-Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Algernon

* * *

It was dawn when Clara woke up due shaking beside her. It didn't take her long to realize the cause of itーBucky was having another nightmare. She didn't have time to contemplate how happy or satisfied she felt, all that mattered was waking him up. He kept muttering words that Clara couldn't make out, then he'd toss and turn. It wasn't until he whimpered that Clara swore her heart broke in two. She couldn't begin to imagine what the nightmare was aboutーit was obviously horrific.

Clara mentally gathered some courage and sat up in the bed. She knew not to touch Bucky, not in the state he was in, so she called his name.

"Bucky?" She questioned softly.

No response.

"Bucky?" She waited for a response, nothing.

"Bucky!" She called loudly. Still, Bucky didn't seem to hear her.

Clara took a deep breath. She knew the risk in waking him up, but she still did it. She still placed her hand on his shoulder and gently shook. She shouldn't have been surprised when she ended up on her back in the blink of an eye and her wrist was in agony. Her heart sped up and for a moment she entertained the notion that this could be her last few seconds in life. That was until she looked at Bucky's face. A look of familiarity returned to his eyes, but soon turned to horror after he realized what had just transpired.

Clara was still scared, but thankful once his metal hand let go of her wrist. From a short glance at it, Clara knew she'd be seeing a bruise form soonーshe flexed her wrist to check and hissed from the pain the movement caused.

This wasn't how the morning was supposed to go. Weren't they supposed to wake up with the sun streaming through the windows and be all smiley? And then they'd discuss what they were and all would end greatly? That was just a fairy tale, evidently. Good things like that never happened to Clara, and they certainly didn't happen for Bucky either.

"Clara..." Bucky started.

"No, it's okay. I know that wasn't you," Clara said quietly, wrapping herself in the blanket. She didn't voice the fact that she had still been terrified anyways.

Clara looked up at Bucky's face and forced her expression to remain neutral. Everything about him appeared to be guiltyーand yet, he'd done nothing wrong. He had a tendency to blame himself where he should have been blaming HYDRA or some other circumstance. But Clara understood. She hated to blame anyone else because it felt as though she couldn't shoulder her own problems, that she couldn't be independent.

So there they were, with Clara's wrist in a pounding pain and Bucky feeling immense guilt. It was a slightly awkward situationーthey were supposed to be happy and talking through what had happened, not dealing with nighttime terrors.

"Clara, this can't happen anymore," Bucky finally spoke. It was done in a heavy tone, one conveying everything Clara needed to know.

"Just because that happened and you're feeling guilty doesn't mean we just give up on this," Clara motioned to themselves. "Something good finally happened, don't let your nightmares ruin it."

Bucky shook his head. "No. I've hurt you enough already, I'm too dangerous. First, it happened with HYDRA following meーthey targeted youーwhich is my fault. And now I nearly broke your wrist."

Generally speaking, Clara wasn't an angry individual. Of course, she'd be pissed off about something every once in a while, but she felt a wave of anger surge through her that she hadn't felt in forever. "And what about me? What, you just sleep with me and then call it quits? Just because one mistake happened? Don't I get any say in this? I've already put myself in danger and backing out, it won't make any sense now. And I..." She paused in hesitation, "I don't think I can be alone again. The time I've spent alone here, with no friends and family, it's nearly killed me. Before I met you, I was so miserable and I hated it. Just... Please."

Clara didn't know how her anger melded into sadness and pleading, but somehow it had. And she hated it even more. It felt as though she had just exposed a part of herself and gave it to Bucky.

Bucky stared at her sadly, seemingly stunned by her tirade. He reached for her hand with a new familiarity and ran his thumb across the new bruise forming as gently as he could. "I should go somewhere else, somewhere far away from you. Because I can't have them killing you or worseーyou're not a part of this mess and I don't think I could ever forgive myself if they took you. I'm sorry Clara, I need to leave."

And the anger was back. Maybe it was because Clara thought that he'd actually listen to her or maybe it was because he was taking the high ground, but Clara didn't care. She yanked her arm from his grip. "Don't leave. Not now. Do you really think they'll leave me alone if you disappear?"

"They only want me. If I leave, they'll follow me."

"Can you really be sure about that?" Clara demanded.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, before shaking his head. "No. I have to distance myself from you then."

"That's not going to change anything!"

Clara's arguments just didn't seem to be getting through to Bucky, however. As yet again, he shook his head, gathered his shirt from the floor and put it on. Anger surged through Clara again as she felt the sting of betrayal; she knew the timing for this incident was coincidentalーit just couldn't change the way she felt. She'd given all of herself to him. There was no way she couldn't feel hurt and furious.

"Fine, run away from yourself and your problems! You know what? You're going to find out just how lonely you've been once you leave, and you'll regret it. Steve isn't going to come save you and I won't eitherーso go see how helping yourself works out!" As soon as Clara said this, she regretted it. But it was too late. She saw the hurt on Bucky's face before he turned and wordlessly left her apartment.

Once he'd slammed the door behind himself, Clara collapsed against the bed, still partially dressed and very much distressed.

A choked cry came out before she reigned herself back in. She'd been through worse than thisーshe fled her home because she'd been blamed for a crime she didn't commitーshe would survive this. Living on her own in another country had taught her a lot, she could stay strong through anything. But Clara hated being sad, she hated feeling pity for herself and most of all she hated what she said to Bucky.

And nothing could stop the terrible feeling she had in her gut.

After the argument with Clara, Bucky felt an incredible amount of guilt. More than the usual amount he felt daily. Of course, he didn't want to be alone, and he didn't want to leave Clara. But what he'd done to Clara changed everything. They'd gotten to a point where Bucky finally felt safe to be himself and allowed himself to relax. After what he'd done to Clara's wrist, he knew that he couldn't stay around anymore.

The look of fear he saw in her eyes when he'd finally realized what was happening had gotten to him in that moment.

Bucky figured that he'd at least stay for a few weeks to make sure there was no HYDRA presence before leaving. He didn't want toーleaving Clara was one of the most difficult things he'd ever had to do. It hurt to see her so angry and betrayed. The timing of the incident couldn't have been worseーhe didn't take sex lightly, and to leave her the morning after was something he regretted. It was better than the alternative; her ending up being hurt or dead.

And what she'd said hurt even more, but he could at least understand why she'd said it.

But the worst was how the feeling of hope and optimism that had been right in front of him, what he and Clara had was good. Of course, it could never last, he was an idiot to think it would.

So that was the end to something brief and great in his life.

Bucky wrote a lot in his journal that day.

* * *

 _THEN, BUCHAREST, ONE WEEK LATER_

Clara smiled at the kid Bucky helped on the way in the building after work. Normally, the child just smiled back at her, but this time he didn't respond with one.

"Excuse me miss, my friend just got hurt and I needed the phone but my door is locked. Can you come help me?!" Tears drifted down his cheeks freely. Clara felt her heart speed up.

"Okay, I'll call for help. Where's your friend?"

The child grabbed the hand that was connected to Clara's injured wrist, causing her to wince. However, she didn't protest, she simply followed the kid outside into the cool evening. She wondered where the hell his parents were and why he was playing out on the street when he should have been eating supper or playing inside. Taking a second look at they boy, Clara realized he wasn't even wearing a jacket. Frowning, she idly wondered if his parents even cared about him. But that was a matter for another time.

"He's around the side!" The boy exclaimed, letting go of her hand and rushing ahead.

Clara ran after the boy genuinely concerned about what she would encounter. Hopefully, his friend wasn't hurt too badly; she wondered how he'd even gotten injured in the first place.

Clara turned the corner and didn't even have time to scream. A hand covered her mouth and she was roughly slammed against the wall all in a matter of seconds. Fear coursed through herーshe knew exactly what this was; HYDRA. Bucky was wrong, they didn't leave her alone just because he went away. They were back and this time, Clara knew he wouldn't be around to help.

In a desperate attempt to escape, Clara managed to jostle her elbow free and hit the man in the ribs as hard as possible. It hurt her in the process, but the man freed her and fell to the ground.

Clara finally got a good look at the area and realized the little boy was in on the plan. She felt betrayal at her need to help being turned against her, and worse, she felt the fear that these were her final few moments. That her last sight would a gun trained on her head. And somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was hoping desperately that someone would save her. Anyone.

Clara turned and tried to run, but two other agents nearby grabbed her causing her to scream and call for help.

Again, her mouth was covered.

"Not so fast. We have plans for you, and to let you go would be a big mistake," the man holding onto her said. "Micheal over here knows that, doesn't he?" The man looked to an agent with bright blonde hair.

The blonde nodded, pulled out a gun and shot Micheal who was writhing on the ground in pain. He immediately went still. Clara felt tears leave her eyes at the horror of seeing a man killed in front of her.

Clara felt all of her anger towards Bucky evaporate. She wanted to see him more than she'd ever want to see anyone else in her lifeーshe desperately hoped some miracle would occur and he would save her yet again. And then they'd happy get along as he made sure she was ok. This wasn't supposed to happen. She should have been able to defend herself, to do something.

Reality set in that she wouldn't be getting out of the situation just before she felt a crack against her head. Everything went black.

* * *

A week had passed in which Bucky had only seen Clara onceーit had been an awkward and tense encounter that he'd rushed through. He'd passed her on the stairway and made a point to not look her in the eye when he felt her glaring at him. The guilt intensified that day, but he knew it was for the best.

But one day, Bucky had come home and noticed that Clara's door was ajar. Frowning, he went to see what was happening. He knew Clara wasn't a forgetful person, if anything, she was diligent. Her door being left open sent off warning sirens in his head.

Opening her door, Bucky felt his heart speed up. Her room had been trashedーit was as though they simply tore the place apart looking for some damning clue. But then... Wouldn't they have gone to his place too? Bucky walked out side to check if his place was okay, and found it left untouched.

Bucky knew who did itーHYDRA was the obvious culprit. But why did they leave his place alone? Surely they knew he lived there if they knew where Clara was. It had to be a warning, Bucky knew that HYDRA wanted him and nothing else. They wanted their prized possession back and nothing was off limits in their path to him.

And that's when it set in: where was Clara? She'd been right all alongーHYDRA did go for her anyways. What the hell had he been thinking, he knew deep down that HYDRA would come regardless of his presence. The truth of it was, Bucky had been scared. Terrified that he'd hurt Clara again, that he'd turn into the same monster he'd been in HYDRA's possession.

He had to find herーand like HYDRAーnothing was off limits. Not anymore.

Bucky had a purpose now. He'd put an end to HYDRA and he'd get Clara back, he didn't care how long it took or what he'd have to do to get there. He'd do itーHYDRA had already done enough to him anyways.

But where to start?

Bucky started by seeing if Clara had reached home first and found that her bag wasn't in her messed up apartment. So maybe the gym? Or on the way home, like HYDRA had done last time? Bucky needed to retrace her steps to make sure.

As Bucky started down the street, the wind picked up. He frowned when he saw grey clouds in the distanceーrain wouldn't make finding Clara any easier. Picking up his pace, Bucky came to a sharp halt when he heard a scream. Without thinking, he sprinted towards the direction of the scream.

Mentally, he prepared himself to find something horrible or to fightーso he was very surprised to see the scream had originated from an elderly lady. She was staring down at a dead body in fear.

The alleyway was abandoned aside from the body, and no other signs of a scuffle were present. Bucky knew it was HYDRAーit didn't exactly explain the dead man, but the was no mistake. HYDRA wanted him to come after them; they were setting a trap. And Bucky was going to willingly walk straight in it and take the bait. He'd walk out unscathed and HYDRA was going to regret what they'd done to him and Clara.

"Call the police," Bucky said to the woman. She nodded shakily.

He turned to leave the scene and ignored the ladies' protests as he walked away. He didn't know where to start, but Bucky was sure they left a string of clues behind. Now it was time to find them.

Clara needed him more than ever now.

* * *

 _AN: Believe me, this will get to Civil War,,,,, eventually,.,._ ,,.. _Lots of angst first_

 _And some badass Bucky B)_

 _So about the long wait for an update, I've been having trouble writing lately. I think it's because of a lack of confidence in my writing but idk. Either way, it's difficult to motivate_ myself _to write. So what I've started doing lately is writing in the time I have after school. Hopefully, I'll update much faster now._

 _Anyways, enough about my procrastinating ass. I'd like to thank **vain-gl0ry, .2016, inperfection,** and **mrs-landers** for reviewing! Thanks so much for the encouraging messages! And thank you to everyone else who followed and favourited! It means the world to authors!_


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